Issue 17, April 1998
J. Kevin Wolfe - Two Poems

If I had one strong wing
I could fly away
said the boy with the stolen face

Burned so bad 
that death was a hope
his eyes were the only thing left beautiful
the only thing left human

All looked upon this tiny charred shell
and could not see a boy
Even his parents disavowed his once-life
now a vagueness of scars

If I had one strong wing I could fly away
I could feel the soft breeze
and not this confusion of sense
on what was once my face

Someone heard 
the quiet wail
He still had no wing
but he flew 5000 miles
He flew to where surgeons 
were sculptors of flesh 
and potters of noses

Operation 
operation 
operation 
etc.

They failed 
to make his face a child's

But the cleverest magician 
took two toes
and made two fingers appear
on the once of a hand

If I had one strong wing
I could lift a discarded life
and make it seem mine again

But I have two near-fingers
so I can feel anything again
anything 
except my face

van Gogh says to God "I do not like 
your gawky use of trees in your landscapes so 
I made my own.

You make the starry night breathe
but do not show the dynamics except 
for in creeping shadows of leaves.  

You pottered a flawless conch shell 
a billion years ago but 

what were you doing during post impressionism?"