Tag Archives: space

College Hill

Chryste says we are our own planets

inside of a dive bar,

pulling men into our gravitational fields.

but I feel like an astronaut,

invisibly free falling

on the fringes of every celestial body.

I lock eyes with a trail of comets,

ensorcell a protostar,

blush in the presence of a red giant.

in the slow descent,

my beer boils,

forming tiny crystals

that encircle my head.

cosmic rays permanently toxify my body

through string lights and neon signs.


I am illumined

or maybe I’m drunk.



some mornings you wake me with a call

to arms, or a crawl as if in deep trenches

perhaps just your color wakes me,

as it twists into my dreams

then envelops,

becoming my dreams, pulling

the blackness from behind my eyelids

into the bed, taking shape and texture


you are a soft fiddle head fern

that runs through the wind,

imitating an ash-throated flycatcher


your forgiveness comforts me

and wakes me at night


Gravity & Light

light cast through a lens

reveals a knowing.

like an agate

at the bottom of a well.


yet visible

in a state of chaos

bent and twisted


curved and overturned

by my eye.


and I listen for the shining knowledge,

but I hear nothing.

so I look for it,

and I see it there.

then I reach for it,

and I feel nothing.

at last,

I weep for it.

and I watch the hope I shed

fall towards it,

and my desperation lay against it.

then I have felt it,

and I have heard it,

and I now I know it.