A virtual chapbook of poems by Mark Justice Hinton.
The poet stands before a cage of birds,
contemplating his next words.
He snatches up a finch
and deftly dips its feet in ink,
stamping glyphs across the page.
All the while, the bird sings softly,
adding a common tone
to this pedestrian poem.
Returning the finch to its pen,
the poet mutters,
"I should have used a wren." mjh
11/24/2009
It is so nice of you
to ask about my poetry.
“Anything new?”
Only seeds
on fallow ground
my personal drought,
I reply dryly
through cracked lips,
my laugh the crunch
of leaves & snap of twigs.
In my hands this paper
browns and curls,
the pen melts,
and in flame
I remember
some seeds need fire
some brush must burn
before we grow. mjh
11/2/2003