But Are You Opening Her Soul?

Come, shadows—for nothing’s golden.
Years, an act. A twenty-foot-long dream.
I believe there’s luck in never taking
life’s tall angel. Some wish upon
a thousand gold strings taking you
nowhere. Last night, these sweet
doors belonged, oh Lord. My angel
walked in, pulling a car up in the sky.
These begging days won’t let me
save you, baby. Hear the heart
of the day that’s begun, all right?
Gonna get lost, gotta run down,
touch up where you looked young,
drive all the way back for the warm cry.
Doing these smart little days, I’ll break,
I’ll walk for nights. But once, the angel
loved you, you say. Look—stick with it.
These days, life’s fine once you hear
the whop whop whop of time.

 

 

 

I got a rejection notice today for two found poems based on David Bowie songs. The other one was, admittedly, a little clunky. But I still like this one. 😦

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That’s What Fell Apart

Look at the trees, how they tell us to
do other things with our life.
I once made a jug
without any handles. I smoothed it
with slip that was the color of
a cat’s ear,
but then it fell apart in the kiln.
I am not a tree. I never made a jug.
I did make a clay Popsicle once,
and that’s what fell apart.

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