Today's poem is by James Grinwis


Big sky flexion,
a guess. I unfold
my map. Here is Aldebaran
here is Polaris. Little crevices
slicing the moon. Walking far,
the corrosive light.
To the left, an odd species
of tree, feeding on dawn.


Earth at night
reveals things we
diurnal folks wouldn't believe.
Love's enough though.
What was it the great man said:
I have walked too long for death.


Oddball nebula,
nefarious smooch.
In the land of the very-hot-pepper eaters,
moonshine tastes sweet.
Pack your passport, your cutlery kit,
a little sense of your own unknown.
Odor of crushed fleas,
sound of one horn
in a field of mice.
Sweep me, the frail dust mite said.
Star flesh isn't rotten,
but covered in lice.


Two micron all-sky survey.
From Amherst to spaceland
the scholar of Aztec calendars
flew. Something about rain,
the thick scent of it,
like moist smoke.

Copyright © 2011 James Grinwis All rights reserved
from Exhibit of Forking Paths
Coffee House Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission

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