3.Avatar Review
     A Review of Poetry, Prose, and Art - Summer 2001


Poems by Brett Thibault


The chimney is the head of the house.
No, the roof is the hat on the head.

The chimney points a long finger.
No, secrets are held behind doors.

The doors flutter, they are the lashes.
No, the porch looks onto the road.

The cars snore, the chimney hears.
No, the hearth burns in the center.


Is the ear a blowpipe to the heart?
Yes, stoke the fire with a whisper.

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