Porch View
A lustrous olive wood menorah 2,000 years old
Unlabeled on one side
lost by a teen mover
Who was told, never lose this box
Flight 952 plummeted to ocean catastrophe
Wanda’s final thought
how filthy her seat-back tray
Luka marched to a forest trench
captivated by an earthworm
while kalishnakovs clicked behind his head
We collapse the mortifying to points mundane
prefer heart’s porch to have a partially obstructed view
more costs too much
terror is an intuition an interment foretold
desperate when strangled
we claw skin into fingernails for DNA
so our story might survive past centrifuge
I see you asleep
out before the covers are drawn
how snug our soft bank of nameless seeds
I know how near your mysteries are to mine
the close dialects of our incanting tongues
Know we fly ages per hour toward what we cannot bear
the evening when our merged tides ease apart to never return
I see the time on the nightstand clock
Already 1:47 a.m. and I wish my fears would turn
but right now they seem to be taking
this time forever