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Volume 2 Number 2 • Fall - Winter 2010-2011

Mike Tandrow

Roses
Bats

Roses

They age well,
like cinnamon sticks
or starfish --

fragile pastels, instant antiques.
Locked away in a drawer

or displayed under glass:
next to Lincoln's tophat
& Churchill's flask.

Bats

They pepper the sky
like a sullen confetti.

 

Tipsy black pilots,
mad with groupthink --
yet they know
where I start & stop:

 

my silhouette probed by acoustics,
rationalized by echo. 

Born/raised Los Angeles.  BA English Lit, CSUN.  Boise, ID since '93.  Married, whole bunch of kids (2010 census).

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