Intuitions
Why do we hold them
In such high regard
When they are what got us
The way that we are?
The Tide
complains
ish ish ish
The Kindly
Cannon
and everyone he met
he blessed with gladness
eight pounds round
was his heart of iron
and matchsticks
were his
friends
Courtesy
When the arrow sticks
Don't make a fuss
Reach behind you
And feel for the shaft
If it is plausible
break
it off
Of course it won't be,
So just don't
Make a scene
Mike Finley makes his living writing in St. Paul, MN. A Pushcart Prize winner, he is author most recently of ZOMBIE GIRL, a graphic novella about his daughter.
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