hang one
candycane
on a tree
& we’ll see
whether
anyone
wants to
get it off
if only
to wind
clockwise
or mind
I said
it writhes
Poetry
hang one
candycane
on a tree
& we’ll see
whether
anyone
wants to
get it off
if only
to wind
clockwise
or mind
I said
it writhes
pfeffernusse
or rumballs,
or oranges
o’er coal, pfft,
for the cold
sm elf shoes,
some 1 falls
& no-1 recalls
where is, as
a drift as
stuck-in is
to misplace
candy cane
so it breaks
1 little green guy
never says heigh
only ho ho ho
like an echo
wrapping its way
’round the sleigh
a little too tight
‘thru the night
anyway it fits
a spatial regift
& he clips
a short list’n
to footprints
whose glisten
often eye
the manual
house to
formal bow
as how do
how’s from,
low roof
and flat-
land land,
at last
free hand
and knot
let go
after all
really suppose
every 1 those
is nicer than
none at all
decidedly
ever since
every time
read as if
skip it you
hold on once
or as twice
so tight
enter if
so ‘all is good’