Poem-a-Day

i think a good one would be:
the sky is petty enough without us
pestering it for stars. or, relatedly:
a good star is hard to find. or somehow
under an orange rind you’ll rustle up a star. or: betelgeuse
is a hell of a way to spend a night. or
better a cluster of stars than another bad sleep.
you cannot dream with your mouth
open and catch the light of the right star.
if you stretch across a bed you will find the light
of it still across your arm like lotion.
if i exaggerate, and call attention to nothing,
it is because as of late, i’ve become 
a hard star out of focus. to catasterize, to place
among the stars, is to curse a foe with darkest ink.
imagine the galaxy as a fable of spilled milk. picture
wanting lemonade. i suppose some of these
are more idioms of space. a shame that any time of year,
whatever you are feeling, the sky at night 
remains the same. or what i mean to say is i’m never sure
the season, but yes, i dream of her.