Painting by Remedios Varo
In your living
room you watch a rerun
of December Bride, it’s 1955 again,
your grandmother’s cuckoo clock
tells the toaster the wrong time.
You call your friend. Sleeping.
You call your minister. Sleeping.
You scream WAKE UP to your
sleeping street. It is scary to be
awake and alone. Maybe
you’re not alone. The dead
might have a party—or a meeting
of their book group.
Wait long enough and cars
will clog streets. The ice cream truck
will tinkle by. You will relax—
and fall asleep, deeply.
You might not ever awaken.
DULCET TONES SAYS HE’S BEEN ON THE MOON
When I get to the moon
I step through a big white door,
Drop on a dusty couch,
no one around, just me
and cats made of dust.
The moon mocks our spaceships,
prefers to chat with
her brother and sister,
Triton and Europa. I head
back to Earth. Bees of logic
sting tables and chairs.
Moonlight rubs the nape of my neck.
Kenneth Pobo is the author of twenty-one chapbooks and nine full-length collections. Recent books include Bend of Quiet (Blue Light Press), Loplop in a Red City (Circling Rivers), and Uneven Steven (Assure Press). Opening is forthcoming from Rectos Y Versos Editions. Lavender Fire, Lavender Rose is forthcoming from Brick/House Books.