Today’s Poem

A Boy Acquires Language

In the open mouth of pregnant pause,
where wasps came and went and stung
when he finally looked through
a keyhole, or at that tower of stacked
magazines somebody else’s dad had.
Handed him seven words for fertilizer
before betting he couldn’t make a fist.
Here is the place of naming grown-up
drink and smoke. Remember, engineers
don’t know anything about trains.
This is the kind of thing you can shout
in a boat. All year he looked at Dick
and Jane’s book waiting for the sound
to come out.

-Jason Braun