THE FIRST TWENTY FIVE

by John Rodzvilla

after Frank Stanford

I was one when bees flew

out of my father:

the signature of a doctor,

the money from home.

We always left after midnight,

never staying until dawn.

Cloud-making shadows float

over the Charles and give it

the skin of an elephant and

the syntax of a rhino.

ABOUT JOHN

John Rodzvilla teaches in the Publishing and Writing programs at Emerson College in Boston. His work has appeared in Harvard ReviewMcSweeney's Internet TendencygorseDecomPVerbatim and Bad Robot Poetry