the letter “a”
tastes of the first potato chip
seemingly inconsequential
until she starts moving toward b staring across
the rolling c and waiting for d
to return from visiting e
who has something to hide
so he spouts off
at poor f bent over his cane
slowly making his way
to the men’s room
where g sits zazen
hoping nobody notices
that the letter h flips over backwards
in the half somersault of childhood
until i spots
the kernel of an idea
floating above the head of j
never letting k finish
her Bruce Lee moves
while shouting at
the letter l
who has her head bowed
because she’d rather be
contorted like m
playing Twister
with her uncle
as n stands in the middle of the action
considering both sides of the issue
and mumbling a simple o
which just rolls down the hill
in a David Ignatow poem
as p sticks his right foot out
half-heartedly
to trip up q
who, in turn, sticks out her left foot
willing to play along
but not the letter r
peeking at the end of the novel
to see if its worth reading
leaving s bent out of shape
by this slightest of infractions
yet the letter t would just as easily
sit there
with hers arms crossed
as u
with mouth turned up toward the sky
tasting the honey-sweet rain
unable to help the letter v
who keeps trying
to enjoy these simple pleasures
yet never seems to be able to
x press the question of whether
you’ve been kept too long
with silly games of y
the letter z drifts off
-isw
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