Stranded, lost in the
thickest part of
the woods,
wanting to play
it back in dog
years,
to retrace the
crumbed
and pebbled path,
to connect every
hair
fallen from my
head,
to create a new,
craftier maze
through the forest
of youth.
Wandering bygone
bars,
dazed by fool’s
gold moon,
surviving on sugar
daddy,
the charity of
berries,
the woebegone
quest
exhausts, abscinds,
the birds of then
have strewn the
way,
and coil gray
threads,
through nests of
lust.
Craig R. Krichner
Craig thinks of poetry as hobo art. He loves storytelling and the aesthetics of the paper and pen. He was nominated twice for the Pushcart Prize, and has a book of poetry, Roomful of Navels. After a writing hiatus he was recently published in Poetry Quarterly, Decadent Review, New World Writing, Skinny, Neologism, Wild Violet, Last Stanza, Unbroken, W-Poesis, The Globe Review, Your Impossible Voice, Fairfield Scribes and has work forthcoming in Ginosko, Last Leaves, Literary Heist, Blotter, Quail Bell, Yellow Mama, Unlikely Stories and The Light Ekphrastic.