Flowers for Mr. Wittgenstein by Paula Puolakka

Paula Puolakka | Mar 27th, 2022 | poetry | No Comments

Poem

Today, where the poppies grow, once,
men died.
Is yellow the color of Joy or the color of pus
dripping from the dead soldier’s eye?
In my mind, I have flowers for you,
my dear Mr. Wittgenstein:
you’re the symbol of WWI bravery,
and I know many of your brothers died.

Poet Bio

Paula Puolakka (1982) is a Beat poet, writer, and MA (History of Science and Ideas.)

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