Poem-A-Day #288 : Breaking In To The Graveyard Where ___ Is Burried

Breaking In To The Graveyard Where ___ Is Burried

Fold your shoulders
until you fit
through the iron
of the fence

Around you - air origamis and collapses
the fractals of it shrink and expand - this is
a moment where physics cease

Light cannot escape your eyes

I want you to birth yourself
                    - now

The leaves are worried - they red and drop
immediately in response

You
are buttered

A scrape along the expanse
of your
torso

Dislocate your memory

Attach it to the string of a balloon

At the horizon of your vision - a sort of
whirl exists - it is a spot where boats can
manage - can decide -

In the interior
a sound of geese hissing

When you find the grave you are seeking
there will be a garbage truck
rattling in the streets

Did you bring a sandwich
wrapped in cellophane
or brown paper

It matters which

Poem-A-Day #185 : The Smallest Black Hole

The Smallest Black Hole

Behind the old barn
with the peeling boards
and the holes in the roof
there is a black hole
it's small and doesn't eat much
couldn't even
in the mornings it spins itself up
and begins the slow pull
of the land
the fallow fields like a sheet over a body
pulled towards the end of the table
the old car that stopped working
the tools and the cattle that don't milk
it eats these things slowly
so that they feel their end
they know it
and it is watched
as if it were happening elsewhere
the blood not boiling
as if the sky weren't about to crack