the religiosity of longing
potatoes are my new church
long-lasting water-scrubbed love
in the oven eleven of them
I want you to count
carefully
our time remaining
provided what we want
we really want
is growing underground in vast distant fields
if we could see well enough to count
(originally published in HAD, Winter 2022)
Self-absorption has turned me
into a selfish alien. On Earth,
we live in isolation
waiting for the cosmic dawn
to return in a brilliant explosion
that would rock this rock like
a great song
performing on its uppermost
stage, all of my being
expanding like a flower
until the whole universe
opens wide
like a Great Eyeball.
Our role will be to find
inexpressible
connection– a ring
of stars passing rings
of fire, each a small
cluster of blue petals.
(originally published in The Subnivean, Winter 2021)
close your eyes,
so you forget.
or remember.
whichever submersion
buries deeper
the salt within you.
it is only you afloat,
naked in the darkest night.
your body is a dream sailing
a sea of decomposing dreams,
patches of brown grass
underneath the auburn leaves.
release what you can touch,
especially if it is nothing.
by then it should not matter
if your eyes stay closed.
when they open, find comfort
in what you cannot see.
(originally published in Skylark Review, Fall 2016)