Before the Days

The bird was happy in its bittersweet roaming
No one knew to take it down
In the early part of the century
At the edge of the semi-permeable glade
They were still building fires
Still chanting
Still running boys out ahead
To look for spots on the cusp
Of what was seen and not seen
And so whoever would look up
Would miss what was coming
In favor of what might be inside the brain
An option
Or a glorious alternative
Not to be equaled until they rang the bell
That marked a thousand years

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Into the Overnight

It would be nice if we were all so simple.

A million stars, one eye squinted.

The Edsel in its eyrie.

But the rumbles continue, and we bend at the knees with their birth.

A little bible called Why Not surfaces in a foggy drawer.

The boy who says he'll go to heaven when he dies
sits in the corner, staring at the wall and wall,
will not move,
no matter how much he's pulled.

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