for Liam
Where did you get that stain
on your knee? You stole all
the kitty litter from the box
in the basement and used
it to fuel a rocket ship, then
ended up thumbing rides
to Cuba. Today you dangle
your fishing rod in the ocean
and skip school, and keep on
skipping school. Your catch
illuminates the densest mud
below the dock, the dampest
night where tadpoles are
born, even the foulest star.
All eyes are fixed on you
like microphones. What
will you do next? And where
did you get that stain on
your knee? And how did you
rip your jeans? And what
happened to your other shoe?
©
's poems have appeared recently or are forthcoming in publications such as 32 Poems, New Orleans Review, Parnassus, Ploughshares, The Threepenny Review, and Witness. He grew up in Los Angeles and works in book production in New York City.
We’ve published seven more poems by Homolka: “sometimes song,” “Vertigo,” “Rubato,” “resignation,” “golden gate park,” “Fairground II,” and “Orchard Street.”
