scroll

 

 

PolarisV1Bayer-1661-Uranometria-Leaf_49-Southern_Constellations

Virgo Zodiac sign constellation

 

Aegean

 

O Penelope, sing through these lungs

so I can feel your breath in me.

 

if i chanted the odyssey

those are the first words

i’d put

on odysseus’s lips

 

The letters of your name

blacken on the sky like altar smoke.

 

what he wished

to tell his spouse

while salt air

whipped his cheeks

 

We are the subjects of heliometry,

stones skipped ten impossible islands apart.

 

but odysseus didn’t have a phone

 

(and i don’t have a wife)

 

Two-faced Hermes, god of thresholds,

is there a limit to my loneliness?

 

the bay might as well be

 

the aegean                                coots bob

 

like buoys

set ten feet apart

 

never again      will       there be

 

solitude like this

 

a house left

with nothing but one’s person

 

I have known nature’s feracity before.

Have you ever seen a deer skip along with an arrow in its side?

Blood spouts like nectar from a jug.

 

when we introduced ourselves

you named                                           the oceans you crossed

 

to be in this country

 

i counted state lines i’d hurdle              alpha beta gamma delta

to make my way home

 

We haul heavy bodies for miles

before collapsing on a lover’s threshold.

 

having never met you

i felt your wound

smart in my side

 

and wondered about

homegoing

 

Will I recognize you, Penelope?

Now you appear to me as a tempest, now as a shearwater.

 

the letters of your name

blacken on my screen

 

like altar smoke

i remind myself:

you are the specters i’ve let

parcel and till

in this season of hysterical weather

 

The sun is our compass,

our lamp, and our torturer.

 

your hour

for painting patterns onto tiles

 

palettes like shingles

turning back the sun

 

dazzled

 

we consult auspices

to pay

 

timid compliments

 

From every aspect,

the wine-red sea totters.

 

colorblind people on youtube

 

use special glasses to see

as most people do

 

the tangle of warm and cool

 

the bawling

of book spines and cereal boxes

 

Behind me is a decade of violence, before me whorling

burgundy, phthalo, and ultramarine.

 

i am the one                             passing the time

 

recalling how

reasonable it once felt

to take for granted

 

tatters of lettuce

bathtubs’ outrageous bubble gum

 

all the colors

 

out there

waiting like suitors

 

 

Zeus on high,

whose chroma perfuses even the bleakest seas,

whose awful lightning anoints all crags

sooner or later,

 

I promise to love this world when it’s mine again.