It's just poetry, it won't bite

Best Not

07.14.17 Posted in today's words by

Hiram Larew’s mot recent poem to appear here was “Even Out” (March 2017)

Best Not
By Hiram Larew

I don’t remember what my arms looked like
When I was a kid
Or how much I confused my parents
When I ran over to them on tiptoes
From the water too soon—
Maybe my folks loved me like crazy
When I curled up against them—
I just don’t recall.
But something tells me deep down
That most of the time
I felt like a bird in leaves.

Lately when I’ve given something special to someone
I’ve noticed those very same burning smells of confusion
Back and forth.
And I’m starting to see how all of these don’t do thats
Have awful slicked back hair in the morning.
In fact what I’m gaining,
One no at a time,
Is red flashes.

Being red but also rainy outside
Makes it hard to imagine
What’s in store.
Probably there will be more dog paddling in place
Or serious whittling
Or never-in-your-life sort of distances
I’ve only seen in outwest pictures.

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