The Sunday Poem: “Baby Hendrix Howl” by C.J. Trotter
Three days since this baby’s birth,
there’s nothin’ cuter on this earth. But
the crib can’t seem to hold him, tight
cottony swaddling meant to enfold him.
He thunders electric, skyscraping wails,
ear-piercing notes atop a chromatic scale.
February 8th, 2025