If I were
a post-it note
expressing poetry
on a white board
affixed
to a crumbling
brick wall
(someone
stuck a wad
of bright pink
chewing gum
in the hole
as if it were
a secret message
passed from
person to person)
I would be
the reincarnation
of a doodle copied
from Kurt Vonnegut’s
scrap book
Only I would ever know
the replicant’s song
before he died
something about
starships burning
and the shoulders
of Orion
T. Haney
12.04.10
