Today's poem is by Noelle Kocot
Our Days Are Numbered
You wanted to concoct a monody
On a dead-end highway
In an impossible springtime.
Your gravity, your counter-hell
Wreaked the restless angels of your mind.
You turned back into letters
As you brought to yoke the ancient nothingness
In the wind of myth,
In a flock of time,
And your thirsty mirrors
Lynched the shadow of a bridesmaid.
I've told this to no one else,
How the traces of your blonde
Preside over a thinble full of light,
How a crack in the fetid sky veers
Into the molting radiance of a gun
Cocked toward the skin of heaven
Knowing that in one blurred instant
Some architectural speck will fit itself
Into the puzzle of antique indescretions
Threaded through a buttonhole in your shirt.
We have reached a place where everything
Can be signed away while the hours
Sprint by on the glinting legs of cranes.
Copyright © 2005 Noelle Kocot All rights reserved
from Poem for the End of Time and Other Poems
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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