from the chapbook GO THERE (November 2013)
the thoughtful bridge
we are stuck on the moon. put there and left there.
the other one says, craters are big and dark, look like mouths
and teeth. I say, Don’t be stupid.
always colder. we call collect back home. climb
out the well for antlers and bubblegum. give comfortable the slip.
how long do you think Mom’s going to keep us here?
light is a big flat disc. would you like another?
the air goes to my head.
I watch the craters for signs
* * * * * * * * * * *
that volcano is a woman who wears her hair around her neck. her body fuses to the liquid heat, runs downhill. her eyes engulf the basin, roam the villages and smoke. her tongue leaps and whips. when she lulls, she softens, beams palm-sized. now, she likes blouse buttons, small fossils, worries her husband, the iguana
under the ocean the iguana’s tail circles the bottom of the world. he says, right like wildflowers, children, I’ve missed you dearly. rivers run from his fingers, flood the whole surface.
we watch people shimmer through crystal to find your shell we still don’t understand these stringy marbles so like old growth we become the plain ground keep like sea bottoms dirty sneakers loose change