Monday, May 27, 2013

Tom Hatch- A Poem

Thinking Like a Deaf Blind Dog

I can't see anything
I can't hear anything
Only the feel of two
Paws hitting the ground 
At the same time
That I cannot see
Then the other two paws
That I cannot hear
the joints are sore
happiness then upon
My tail wags joints
Are there even in pain
Leading to a place
A gully or culvert
Where it is a sleepy hollow
That I will be found
Before I die alone
Which is ok my 
Tail I cannot control
Wags beyond the
Deaf and blindness
If it were me it would be stew
I am licking in the silent air alone
Tom paid his dues in the SoHo art scene way back when. He was awarded two NEA grants for sculpture back then. And taught at various colleges and universities in the NYC metro area in art (including Princeton and U of Penn. in Philly). He feels like a regular at The Camel Saloon and BoySlut. He has published at The Mind[less] Muse, Jellyfish Whispers, Napalm and Novocain, Dead Snakes and Pyrokinection among others. He has recently had a poem nominated for The Best on The Net. He lives in CT with a few farms up and down the road works in Manhattan. His train ride to and from NYC is his solace, study and den where it all begins and ends.

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