[Published in Forklift, Ohio Journal]
THE CONTAINER MUST FEATURE A SPOUT OR BE DESIGNED
SO THAT CONTENTS CAN BE POURED WITHOUT SPILLING
What a mess the moon made, leaking the sun’s light everywhere.
We were sopping it up for days, mops and shirtsleeves,
shoes soaking, dripping leaves.
Legs dangled over the ledge, we flicked our
ashes, tossed match after match into
It was then I meant to tell you something – simply –
using my best feature. The goddamn tranquil
pull of your eyes – I was pouring
and you got a face full. You didn’t flinch or blink.
Like dealing with fumes: if you close your eyes
you just hold the pain in tight against the eyeballs.
Look through it.
Some flowers only open when they’re drowning.
Thank god the moon’s almost empty now
so we can shut up.