Patron

I now have one regular patron who sends a monthly contribution to keep this poet alive. Yes, per usual, I'm a poor poet...and for some reason I'm a poor poet in its many meanings...but someone like my patron loves my work. If you become a sustaining patron I can guarantee you'll see writing from me on a regular basis. I do edit my work...like mad. But I don't always hit it out of the park. At least my patrons have a chance to select from all my work...and they become the editors rather than the small-minded who often edit magazines and journals. Poet James Wright,one of his last books, held by two editors for the longest time that his wife Anne took to another publisher who snapped it up and it became a huge success. Now I don't have people like Robert Bly, Don Hall, or their equals I can send my poems to for a review before I put them on the internet or send to any publisher. I believe in opening up my "horde" for the world to critique or love. And it's expensive to send out my work, getting only rejection, so it's money I don't have for food, or the electric bill. Please send what you can via my email: rikwrybac@yahoo.com via Paypal. I thank those who support me one way or another.

THANK YOU!

Thank you to those who have contributed via Paypal to support my writing. My account at Paypal is the same as my email: rikwrybac(at)yahoo.com

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Wednesday, June 15, 2011

On Gravity and Squirrels

Back and forth through spruce
this year's brood of baby squirrels
chasing each other
in their new world
along the side of the house
at the edge of the creek
and up and down the trunks of trees
to conquer the natural force
man still does not comprehend
those complete powers
that keep us on our feet
We followed the bird
and the design of their wings
into the air
when all we really
needed was a good set
of paws and claws
to grab onto the air
at that next branch
of what we cannot see
the invisible tree of gravity
Now instead of airplane
tourists sit
inside of comfortable cabins
in the shape of squirrels
heading for a utopian beach
watching movies, reading books
and chattering about the steward's cart
stocked with pine nuts, chokecherries,
and crabapples.
No longer named airports
we'll drive to the nest
and follow our pilots
inside the natural curves of a Boeing Squirrel 870
to scamper the sky homeward.


Copyright © 2011 by Barry G. Wick All Rights Reserved.
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