Poetry, Vol. 1.2, Sept. 2007
Leaves run, scatter like marbles
flung by the wind’s hand. Gambling hearts and aces
roll numbers, tumbling
Porch light timed to attract swarming springtails
like poppy seeds. Flocking, fully willing
to give themselves up for light.
Bodies pressed against bulb, igniting,
hoping to burn.
the match lit, flickering to ignite, ice dried in packaging, lungs trapping coal, black sand warmed against winter feet, sun’s touch on metal railings, coffee in cracked mugs, straight shots in little glasses, the coming, wax dripping in a vigil, mercury boiling, branding, pricking needles, iron.
In the room above, buttoning the last hole,
shirt collar stiffened. Peering down at skin, hair unstuck,
her mouth tempted to smile
in the forgetting.
Spooning sugar into black coffee, dusty mugs
with painted daisies chipped and fading.
Floor tiles pull, wallpaper peeling back
to old paint crack-shedding.
At breakfast, he parts lips to taste
what she’s made.
Slowly chewing, churning,
He wants it to burn.