Baby Bear,
Red flag on pole staked into a grass
Wind, I remember, wind in that grass
Wind through the bodies of no one I could
Wind a particular sensation I can not
Red flag on pole staked into your grass
I possess no direction utterly
What is required your sensei said that
You were small and had round cheeks
And I fail, Baby Bear, fail you
How can this fact deny this thing
Brain hands hurt chest hurts deeply so
In your home
City, Baby Bear, have I utterly
on a page my body quaking
balloon string you are the hand I am possessed beyond
What I mean is
Sensei circumstance you will if permits
You not my hand of my hand through the board
The red flag wind the more words the less is
You listen, Baby Bear, crocodiles lake wind
Like that one time
That one time
And you are
Loved beyond me which is what
Is required, afraid quake body
Baby Bear, dark choosing chose
I did not respect the deed
Every single sensation I had
Taught me whole blew these leaves
Baby Bear, I bow before the people in time
Fading never so never so one shard of
I tire take short cuts now
I don’t have to finish
Everything today
Last one one last broken red sun wind knot know
Better red tape sun grass last time means know anything more
Grass grew me inside you nothing got better
I chose breaking own my I running chose me wrong run
My head hung low in my palm, Baby Bear, last this
Line grass leaves red verb who knows I you I you love love o
Joseph P. Wood is the author of four chapbooks and two books of poetry, which include Fold of the Map (Salmon Poetry) and I & We (CW Books). He splits time between Birmingham, AL, and Tuscaloosa, AL.
