Moving Galleries

ten billion light years away a star explodes
its light still out there
building the iron for my car
the dust that built our planet earth ...

We have velvet theories
about boys becoming men,
the mysteries of plumbing ... 

I am a chick
You don’t call it lit
But I read it.
I am the protagonist
The girl who loses part of herself ...

I’m listening to Hurt, which Johnny Cash
now sings: the needle’s in his voice, a ghost
lends him its wings, and even with the clash ...

grey dawn
thin old moon
alone and radiant