Dog star, always there, in the dog days of summer, in these winter hours that pass like small lifetimes, secret, still, enclosed. I forget sometimes that being a tide involves wide margins, sea changes, rushing in and reticence in equal measure– never ever there but always moving towards it. Dog star, still there, waiting faithfully at the edge of the horizon. Not a portent. Not an omen, but maybe an answer to some unspoken longing.
A thin cloud drawn across the night sky a cloud not a jet trail not as precise above it the moon below it stars in some celestial equation so enamored am I with this idea of divination two of the stars are traveling in opposite directions jetliners both going and both leaving but I wasn’t looking for something so obvious so keen am I on division always wanting to know just how many times a […]
Strange to say a starless night they’re all still up there god bear ladle monster man daughter strange to think they also live and die collapsing inward exploding out terribly constant in middle age (and strange how none go quite the same) and how we think we know them having given them names still wishing upon them strange how empty a place space is how far away these sparks the speed of light not speedy […]
A thin cloud drawn across the night sky a cloud not a jet trail not as precise above it the moon below it stars in some celestial equation so enamored am I with this idea of divination two of the stars are traveling in opposite directions jetliners both going and both leaving but I wasn’t looking for something so obvious so keen am I on division always wanting to know just how many times a […]
OPTIONAL POETRY 