Blackbird an online journal of literature and the arts Spring 2008 Vol. 7 No. 1



Response to, “Why Don’t You Write about Something Happy?”

The bad fuse in the bomb that won’t go off.
The drowning baby’s lungs that fill with air.
The hammer fist pulled back before it strikes.
The poison coffee rendered down the drain.
The robin’s nest not torn to shreds this time.
The childhood not marred by peoples’ hands.
The gills not torn up through the fish’s mouth.
The brakes that held around the dead man’s curve.
The flooded street the mom and dad survive.
The razor in the locker left alone.
The hiding woman safe at last this once
from all the woes and blows she’s had to bear.
The mourning cloak you didn’t have to wear.
The mourning cloak you didn’t have to wear.