Short Index Finger Poems

girl pronounced brain dead
just squeezed my index finger
holding on to hope...

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The last time
I took
a photograph 
Instamatics
were in flower

No one
could get over
the expression
on my index finger...

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wrote a poem across his back



AP: Honorable Mention 2022

Submitted on July 11, 2021 for A BRIAN STRAND JULY 13 contest sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - RANKED 1ST

Originally posted on July 8, 2021...

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his little finger kissed her little finger, cute feng.

ring finger. love is not a game! natural love.

middle finger!!

index finger is wonderfully great.

thumb is the greatest. A thumb for natural love!...

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just one crazy bush
spread out in that barren field
sprouts blood-red berries

one icy window
one index finger writing
she reads backwards    smiles

how simply charming
this snowflake hits my window
melts a wayward star...

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Chestnut hair
Hues of gold

Transforms to dust
Settles there in

Eyes umber

Index finger
Traces ear

Guides titian tresses
In channel there

Eyes slumber

She goes to a place
Where little girls dream

She goes to a place
Where little boys dare

Ne’er enter...

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Abstract aspect of art,
Tiny tears on a tongue.
Lately our love is lost,
Advantage across affection.
Never normal nights,
Tension through thunderstorm.
Ink is on my index finger,
Searching for our sweet secret in a salt....

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"My tumb finger waiting to put a 
sindoor in ur forehead, index finger 
is waiting to put a dot in ur swt 
dimple chick, middle finger is 
waiting to help u to hold the nouse 
ring while u r waring it, ring finger is 
waiting to get a ring frm u and little 
finger is waiting to hold ur little 
finger forever....."...

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The Grammar Years


On that train an hour ago, 
though he did not see me,
I saw a teacher I had years ago,
a proper man was he

who in the margins of my papers
wrote short sermons in a script
so perfect and so neat
they looked like samplers.

But on that train an hour ago
I glowed in exultation when I saw
his index finger pluck
a small erratum from his nose.


Donal Mahoney...

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The inside of my knuckles,
Between the middle and index finger, 
Burn like hell.

This cigarette has drawn an ash,
Longer than I could draw a line
Upon a piece of paper.

I'm afraid,
To inch my hand anywhere near it.
This keyboard, 
It's so god damn clean.

Is it necessary to create such a mess,
Upon the place my hands work?
While the canvas,
The bright screen,
Remains clean?...

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Touching a red-hot stove burner will cause pain.
Therefore a not red-hot stove burner will not cause pain
my kindergartener logic assured me.
“Don’t tough it. It’s hot.” 
Meddling authority figures.
How could they be wrong about something so simple?
It wasn’t long after that 
that my right index finger and middle finger
were coated in salve and wrapped in gauze
and throbbing primordially.
Sometimes adults aren’t wrong....

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When the index finger indicated the sun went to the pet shop
I found a creature that swims elegantly in the water
It was an Aphrodite's goldfish
Love began from there
I placed a goldfish in the aquarium of my room
God thought that made a wonderful thing
Why are you going to swim in the water?
I listened many times.
40 I heard it for ten days, but there was no answer
There was a small forest where I had to look at the window.
I do not know, but I thought that people started there...

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