In heaven all the sleeves are long enough.
No one will bankrupt you for being
Between jobs. The animals all know you
And wish you well. It’s considered rude
To even mention capitalism. The frogs
Are all in one lovely key, and sometimes
They write poetry and sing it to the pond.
There’s a wide idea of what constitutes
Love and meaning. So few people are
Looking for answers they turned off
The internet. No one’s looking for love,
Only at it. Nobody says “saccharine
Pastoral” and means it. Here your heart
Feels like a reed bent parallel to the other
Reeds, over some generous body of water.
*first line borrowed from Kristi Bergner
The pain is maddening but it doesn’t let up. This is the story of ontological novelty. Like finding a peeled fruit, whole, in your bed. Wait on as its own opposite. Or a command to keep going. The window of the dream is closing, closing. No one lifts a finger off their own pulse. I let a flower go for every day you’re not here. I’m counting days like rabbits in the spring.
The Idea of Purple
Just trying to steal my way through living
I’d tell you a joke but then / we’d both die
I’d like to refuse the pink light but it won’t
Let me / There’s already too much sugar
In the bowl / Lay your hands on my ugly
Shoulders & strum / The black guitar of
My present-tense fear fr the future / All its
Ramrod-straight ideals & its ecological
Disasters / An immortal fugue has begun
To play for the wounded among us / An
Infinitely recast majority in the candlelight
/ Scraping all the dead flesh off our backs
/ Wandering the highlands without a clue
Tom Snarsky teaches mathematics at Malden High School in Malden, Massachusetts, USA.