Two New Poems
From the poet's desk...
MEN LIKE JONAH In this world there is trouble. Not the kind you will away, but the kind that lingers: in the bones, on the brain, at the tip of the tongue, burning like a brand. Invasive the way beetles poison trees and locusts leave fields barren and bare. And there you are, a prophet, the mouthpiece of God, tongue on fire, and nothing left to say. EDEN The morning breaks in, pulling aside the blinds, spilling its bright, yellow light all over the bed. Your face, hidden in your pillow, the shape of your body under the blanket like the the gentle slopes of green hills. And not quite asleep but not quite awake, you turn, face the sun, let it bathe you in it's amber warmth, and rising from bed stand naked, unashamed, your haloed head, a stark contrast to the girl in bed. I rub my eyes, try to look again, and like Adam, rising from his sleep, stunned at the shape of her face and her limbs, he mistkaes her for a goddess, or something with a name, and rising, greets her—watches the sun follow her curves, dripping down her frame.