Find and share the perfect poems.
push the needle of the pen
burning sensation
then pour grief in
there are many kinds of loss
some have names some we swallow
fit what you can in a pill
there is no plan to save us
trespassers take up your tools
we will store things here we need
and when the siren sounds
lay mirrors in the street
bring heaven down to earth
Copyright © 2011 by Jen Benka. From Pinko (Hanging Loose Press, 2011). Used with permission of the author.
the atmosphere makes earth look blue. life started with one cell that somehow split in two. who wrote what to whom. the universe contains the universe. a faint milky circle, a blank field. one lie leads to the next. the comfort of something complex that connects us. do you feel this. yes. I could tell you everything but then what would be left. there is a thing that needs to be built (the name for it). how do I say this (imperfectly). the difference between the microscope, telescope, and pen suspended by a single thread—pull and then it ends