High Security

Typed on a security envelope using a 1950 Smith-Corona Skyriter



This is a HIGH SECURITY envelope turned upon it’s head.  Anyone dares breech it may be better off as dead.  For deep within it’s pocket is a secret holy Grail.  Now delivered, opened and assessed, alas; it’s just junk mail.  ~TH~

As A Child * I

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This is the first of two spontaneous poems I wrote upon a full page graphic from the New York Times.  As usual, I used the nature of the graphic to kick-start my thought process for the poem’s subject matter.  Graphic is a work by Matisse from 1952.  The details about the artwork are shown at the bottom of my second poem “As A Child * II”.  ~TH~