Litkicks Message Board Archive

the love blood of my thumb

Posted to Action Poetry

wants to burst out
but unlike
the front gate of my mouth
it's trapped
by the sack of my skin
so instead with the left
it chooses to write
it startles, it shouts
it wants to get out
I stare at this thumb
like a wild colt of my hand
the one at the end of my right
it's always been mine
it's always been there
now like meeting some stranger
this thumb, I stare at in wonder
can it be the same one
the same thumb as
ever before my parents were born?

this thumb
it wants to poke ashes
smoking by the side of the road
it longs for the ride
this thumb like a rose
it's too red for its nose
and it sings
it sings of green tea
thumbs don't drink tea
this phalanx
this thumb
points to me in Dokusan
a personal interview
harshly requested
demanded yet dreaded
but who is the student?
who here's the teacher?

I'm stuck with this thumb
I can't throw it back

this one inch thumb
this wild colt of my hand
has a soul
I measure it
it's a half an inch long