When the October night is full of stars
And the full moon floats huge and bright in the east-
You are that pretty at very least
But you are as mean as a PE teacher
That old ex-Marine full of shrapnel and bile
I charge headlong toward each silver smile
The unexpected drop
of cool summer rain
on parched desert lips
your breath takes me away
like Elijah in the wind
never to be found
I want to become very small
Like the final clover flower of fall
Curled up tightly against the cold
Or the littlest lamb in the littlest fold
Like a roly poly that’s been touched
Or a plastic cup that’s been crushed
And casually tossed into the trash
But maybe I just need to crash
Burrow into the blankets on my bed
Dream small dreams and play dead
Wake up with the bears in spring-
Maybe then, I’ll be a bigger thing
He sang a spell
And they heard him down the valley
Fireflies streamed from hollowed-out trees
And danced in waves
The summer night is big
But stars never frighten a bullfrog
Listen-
He will tell you himself
His full throat bellows a melody
A chorus line of crickets follows his lead
Sit down by the fire with a fifth of whiskey
Listen-
He’ll tell you himself
Later, when your teeth gave up their roots
Handfuls of hair signaled the sickness
The cancer grew
Did you regret seeing that first flowering fire
The shadowless glare of that second sun
In purple, green, and white?
Or did you think to yourself on your final bed,
I looked Shiva in the eye
And lived (for a while)
To tell the tale