Originally published in the Owen Wister Review, Spring 2010
There is a wall of constellated stars,
a fortification built by strange pre-cosmic colonists.
Originally published in the Open Window Review issue 2.
Came Christ the tiger.
–T.S. Eliot, “Gerontion”
When in youth I hunted, the tiger
I tracked was not so much the prize
as was the tiger of youth inside–
to tame his reckless strength to valiance.
I’ve seen a black sand beach
stranger than any foreign world
where King Poseidon draped in seaweed
once walked upon the Earth–
a black sand beach where steel-colored waves
wash up to shining, ashen stones
nested beneath charcoal plateaus that break out
all over in lime green leaves.