by Heikki Huotari

In lieu of plastic flowers & balloons at twenty
intersections may there be an interim & may all
twenty newly licensed drivers thrive & these days
everybody’s a comedian including me & in my
dream you ask if that’s an ocelot & I say That’s an
ocelot to ask & I say Down in front & I say La la I
can’t hear you as my mother’s in the house & one
day everyone who has a mother has a hula hoop.
The next day no one does.

Heikki Huotari is a retired professor of mathematics. In a past century, he attended a one-room country school and spent summers on a forest-fire lookout tower. His poems appear in numerous journals, recently in The Journal and The Penn Review, he’s the winner of the 2016 Gambling the Aisle chapbook contest. Forthcoming books will be published by Lynx House, Willow Springs and After The Pause.