“ars poetica” by Hudson Warm ’23

Ars Poetica

by Hudson Warm ’23

A muted, silent cry Explosions of red dye In crevices of stone These rocks we call our own A balance beam of glass Crash through, fall on your ass A shadow beam of sun The dry skin on your thumb Faded black soliloquies Of marionettes’ ventriloquies Chapped lips and mittened hands Ponytails with rogue strands A mercy-cry for the few If only your mother knew Of the knife selection in your belt The way, before you, that I knelt Faulty poker hand you have been dealt Teh wrods wchih I hvae awlyas mispelt

Please is the worst word to repeat To feel powerless on your own two feet On the bridge where your two lovers meet You’ve dangled off the brush of defeat

These shattered letters I recall The broken words that made me fall The letters I still sometimes scrawl To send to illusory addresses I call 40 Spring and nine-one-four Fights over who loved who more Isn’t that all poetry is? A study in love and promises?