by Heikki Huotari

  1.         Pick up sticks not stitches. Shine light one
  2. way, walk another. When the high wire to
  3. entanglement is compromised, a town goes dark.
  4. Consider subatomic particles, they have no spin and
  5. are not charming, subsequently, look away.
  6. Anathema anathema to you whose moon the tide
  7. abides, the manner of bequeathing is none of your
  8. business, not your bane. The dis-continuum of
  9. kitchen sinks repeatedly disproves the rule of two.
  10. Frost heaves. The solid body won't stay down. I am
  11. the very veteran the new salute.
Packingtown Review – Vol.15, Spring 2021

In a past century Heikki Huotari attended a one-room school and spent summers on a forest-fire lookout tower. They are a retired math professor, have won two poetry chapbook prizes and published two collections. Another collection is in press.

  1. Heikki Huotari
    Hands, Keep Handspoetry