Shaye Anderson Poems
|4.||Sugar Knows 'The Regulars'||5/31/2011|
|5.||The Boy Who Now Believes In Jesus||5/31/2011|
|7.||My Internal Monologue Speaks In Tao Lin||5/31/2011|
|11.||The Time Something Almost Happened To You But Didn'T||5/31/2011|
|13.||North Of North||5/31/2011|
|16.||Coffee Shop Love||5/31/2011|
|17.||The Nationality Of Maples||5/31/2011|
Comments about Shaye Anderson
The Nationality Of Maples
The day we shopped for photosynthesizers
I touched more foliage than fingers
and figured conifers had something to do with Jesus.
I wondered where I’d heard of “hemlock” before,
unable to shake the hold of homophones and heretics.
Neophyte of the kingdom,
I don’t know the Romans from the roamers
and I sure as hell can’t decipher
what a tree calls its mother.
Simon talked to the girl behind the counter about Jesus and I was afraid,
because ignorance is the most contagious of diseases.
Simon said he was an artist, but more importantly,
And I don’t know why there has to be such a difference.
But there is.
And I’m wearing the five-dollar sweatshirt that means so much more to me.
Teal and orange and white,