These Hands
Mine are the hands
that crumple my poem
into a little paper ball
to toss its rottenness flying!
Mine are also the hands
that unfurl it, flatten it,
and pin it to the wall—
a reminder that I’m trying.
that crumple my poem
into a little paper ball
to toss its rottenness flying!
Mine are also the hands
that unfurl it, flatten it,
and pin it to the wall—
a reminder that I’m trying.
This poem is copyright (©) Stefan Karlsson 2024
About the Writer
Stefan Karlsson
Stefan is a poet and artist. He received his MFA in Poetry from the University of California-Irvine. His poems (for adults) have appeared in Fourteen Hills, Sugar House Review, and Spillway, among others. His paper marbling artwork can be found on Instagram: @nautiluspaper. He lives in Portland, Oregon, where he drinks too much coffee, hoards too many books, and has never enough time with his rabbit, Jean-Pierre.
