Tagged: poems
Angel’s Wing
gnats grow white fungus
in my ears
confuse my eyes with pools
they touch me, expand
get used to me
not moving
I try to see their whole bodies
in a way I’ve never seen
my own body
but can feel it
I am up top, pressed
against glass
I am standing too close
to the moon
It goes down my body
to the planet
I try to see its whole body
in a way I have never seen
my own body
but can feel it
Vision at Fallen Home
we took his couch,
some tools, to help
evacuate belongings
we took his cords
the garden too
has been demolished,
though the hummingbirds
return for the turk’s cap
along the fence
they go from stagnant,
to blistering, which
feels familiar
one transcendence
to another
a tourist in each
thinking about heading back
but pulled out
by color, certain
red objects
brilliant against
old footage
a poppy, a war
in many ways I feel
that we knew each other
before
we must have done
the way you identified
my mouth
like a plant from home
and I know your hands
and I fear so capably
your loss, as if
it has happened