Pin It
Favorite

Poem: Slick 

It picked

a Hell of a night to rain.

That frog picked

a Hell of a time to cross.

I picked

a Hell of a second to swerve.

Your brakes picked

a Hell of an instant to lock.


This is what they tell you

when the Ride is finally over:


You've learned nothing

—wasted space—

if you haven't absorbed

the theme:

We pick nothing.


We

pick

nothing.


We pick nothing

(but our words).

Pin It
Favorite

Comments

Subscribe to this thread:

Add a comment

Readers also liked…

Hudson Valley Events

submit event
Pirates of Penzance Jr. Workshop @ White Plains Performing Arts Center

Pirates of Penzance Jr. Workshop

Mon., June 26, 10 a.m.-4:30 p.m. — Set sail with this classic comedy that boasts one of the most...
Afternoon Studios: Shimmering Sculptures @ The Aldrich Contemporary Art Museum

Afternoon Studios: Shimmering Sculptures

Mon., June 26, 2-4 p.m. — Turn a summer day into an artful one. Experiment with new materials...

View all of today's events

Latest in Poetry

More by Mike Vahsen

Hudson Valley Tweets