Swallow Away

by David N. Menzies


Gravity pounds its little nails
Into the observatory's roof
Tonight; my eyes, lapping
At that holy grail, swim
Weakly in their tear-pits.
The night sky knows less
Of one sieving, open heart.
Tired of those rocks; fires —
Epiphanies, purposes,
Wonders, and hopes —
Turn to ash in this bluest
Atmosphere of all.
Sunlight makes it so,
Birthed the contrasts
That made the stars holes.
Days between wars
On everything I love,
Spent dreading the place
Where I see the would-be
Drink in wishful thinking
Thought into a god's face.


Copyright © 2004, David N. Menzies
Kitt Peak at night

Kitt Peak


David N. Menzies has recently had poetry published in Plum Ruby Review and Subjective Substance (the best kind). Lately he's been thinking that if there's any truth to that Atlas sculpture, the guy's knees are buckling.

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