Young Mr. Lincoln

rail
spli
tter
tall
like
pine
thin
like
reed
lick
 any
 man
that
will
 wet
 his

horns.
you’ll
talk’em
down
first
if you
can or
if you
cain’t
you’ll
put
fire on
the
mountain
and in
our
bellies
teach
us to
speak
lead
lead us
to
speak
of your
speaking
as of
prophets
and
martyrs

you
were
all
of us
and
so we
pay
homage
at
your
monu
ment.

leader.

grim
visaged
American.


Well National Poetry Month is here and I’m going to write a poem each day Monday through Friday until it is over, much like last year. Today, since I watched a movie about Lincoln last night, my attempted poem is about Lincoln.