Ink runs from the corners of my mouth.There is no happiness like mine. I am eating poetry.
—Mark Strand
Unless you love, your life will flash by.
—Mother, The Tree of Life
The astronomy of the Lord
the observatory in faces
how the stranger is a telescope into some new definition of self
how the closet door slammed and then opened
can tumble forth constellations
tripping over their shins to lust over us
to claim our memories as their lungs
I love the science the biology of the brain
the atoms of the soul
the mountainous mountain
rising out of the land to get a better look at its brother sea
and the sun the glorious sun punching it’s armless fists
out of the complacent clouds
to fund my hands.
And I tell you, ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, and the one who seeks finds, and to the one who knocks it will be opened.
—Luke 11:9-10
I could have kissed you
under cherry blossoms,
pale petals drifting down
like the trees wanted to
pretend they could be
snowclouds.
I could have kissed you
in the rain, drenched to
our bones and not even
caring that the skies
opened up above us
and tried to wash us out.
I could have kissed you
in a clearing in the most
secluded woods, with
just the sound of wind
rustling through the leaves
and a few voyeuristic
finches peeping at us.
Instead, I kissed you
in the parking lot of a
Waffle House, just shy
of 2 a.m. in the middle
of a hectic week, with
our waitress grinning
at us from the other
side of the window,
because, honestly,
how could I not?
Gabriel Gadfly, Location Location Location
