going places


going places

where are you going with your body
which never really came here in the first place
there is a three foot bubble around me
and only the animals are tame
but some of them are wild as russian tigers
which i avoid assiduously

as a human your alibi is tight as air
a migrating bird got lost in a restaurant
i picked it up with only one hand
and showed it to the door
it rejoined its comrades in a parking lot
you would do the same if you had any

December 2012 Gaines I. Milligan


Related posts:

ike the ikester


My name is Gaines Isaac Milligan, nee July 26, 1943. In Chattanooga Tennessee. After many lonely struggles, left that city in 1976 as a homeless accordionist. Since then I have accumulated a house, 100 accordions, a small family, and various predictable accoutrements. I now have composed about 3 dozen original poems, most of them since October this year, except for about 1/2 dozen I wrote in 2010. I write a poem at least every couple of days or so. When I am not writing a new poem, I am revising them. Except of course, when I am doing other things. Prior to becoming a street accordionist, I sometimes lived in caves, and took sustenance from the land and good will. I have worked as a piano tuner and a bicycle messenger and a real estate agent. I also repair accordions, and participate in various boring enterprises.

No Comments

Be the first to start the conversation.

Leave a Reply

Text formatting is available via select HTML. <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>