Birches

when i see birches i think
i really should keep my eyes on the road
when i see a stop sign on a side street
i think some tight-ass politician put it there
when i see Russian Olive trees
i think about botany, mostly
and when i see boys swinging
i don’t think about birches at all
though, when i hear birches i think of Abraham Lincoln
when i smell birches i think of phosphorus paint
when i taste birches i think of taking a walk
when i touch birches i think of Christine
but when i think of birches
i don’t see anything at all