Now that I think about
it the path through the wood
reminded me of Gettysburg
Little Round Top just darker
like I couldn't lift my chin up enough
to catch the light streaming
through the trees that cold
autumn day, I had Whit in my
arms, he was small tho, really
God damn unusually small
and there was another Whit being
born or covered in bloody gooey placenta
on some TV brain beyond my comprehension,
and Alton Brown was there swinging,
smashing and being an all around
hero saving the girls from roving bands
set on evil deeds which isn't so far off
from the truth, I guess--he would wander uncharted
alien forests heroically super
heroic without fanfare--and Whit glanced up at me
over the commotion of my eyes
waking and mewed softly for the
morning.
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