I’m a child running with open scissors.

Another Poet Laureate selection, this one from the 2007-2008 Laureate, Charles Simic (1938-).

“Love Poem”

Feather duster.
Birdcage made of whispers.
Tail of a black cat.

I’m a child running
With open scissors.
My eyes are bandaged.

You are a heart pounding
In a dark forest.
The shriek from the Ferris wheel.

That’s it, bruja
With arms akimbo
Stamping your foot.

Night at the fair.
Woodwind band.
Two blind pickpockets in the crowd.


One thought on “I’m a child running with open scissors.

  1. (This is the only poem I have memorized.)

    I throw a Molotov cocktail at the precinct, you know how we think
    Organize the hood under I Ching banners
    Red, Black and Green instead of gang bandanas
    F.B.I. spyin on us through the radio antennas
    And them hidden cameras in the streetlight watchin society
    With no respect for the people’s right to privacy
    I’ll take a slug for the cause like Huey P.
    while all you fake niggaz try to copy Master P
    I want to be free to live, able to have what I need to live
    Bring the power back to the street, where the people live
    We sick of workin for crumbs and fillin up the prisons
    Dyin over money and relyin on religion for help
    We do for self like ants in a colony
    Organize the wealth into a socialist economy
    A way of life based off the common need
    And all my comrades is ready, we just spreadin the seed

    The average Black male
    Live a third of his life in a jail cell
    Cause the world is controlled by the white male
    And the people don’t never get justice
    And the women don’t never get respected
    And the problems don’t never get solved
    And the jobs don’t never pay enough
    So the rent always be late; can you relate?
    We livin in a police state

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