2 Poems

What did they see that my cheeks can’t take the weight, each eye filling with the stone it once was, my hand cold lying so close and every year more stars –it’s natural to work the swing shift feel my way back and the light from all the stars at once useless, giving out, is rock again and between each star the sun still looking for its echo for a sun weaker than itself and calling –the distance is the sun they must have seen before its twin veered off before the darkness –must have seen the return as nothing but light and glory, glory, the only sound from my eyes, from my arms and calling. * This radio loose, its voice aroused at night :the static impatient –there’s no face no arms, no breasts –all I see is the climbing turn for stars and that fleece lined jacket filling with light drifts into another evening –the song widens, tightens –all those stars at once to come when told, the sky led forward by a fire it never sees a voice and rapture, its face devoured, no lips, no thighs –what’s left is what’s blue is the way I sing along half frozen –without the jacket holding on to my hand.

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