Featured Poem 12/9/07
To My Untouched HippopotamusYou never met the man
with whom I spend my life.
I’ve known him many years,
and all I can predict is
sarcasm and genius.That night, he was himself
through the words of another.
He was the warrior,
standing on top of the hill in the snow.
He was a hero, who fought for our right to party.
He was the junkyard a few blocks from here,
and he was inside of us, shining like oil.
It was the first day of my life.
“This shit ain’t right,” I thought,
and I smiled because I wanted it that way.
He hummed with a dark spectrum,
glowing with shades of triumph, despair, hope.
My eyes closed and I saw the same
music as when I kissed you in the green
glow of a dashboard.
I opened my eyes and realized that
you were somewhere else and I was somewhere here,
and if regret is all you have inside your heart,
then thank God for your mistakes.
—Eric Wigdahl
Close this window to return to previous page.