THE WISH ANSWERED
Several years ago I discovered
how easily love and food are confused,
when I thought I was in love with someone
but really it was a skipped lunch,
forgive me, I was young,
passions being what they were
were somewhat equivalent, mixed-up,
the highest anything,
stars without firmament, colors huddled
in the back shelf of a dark closet.
And even when I got my wish,
her sitting in front of me,
all I could think about
was cannoli, biscotti.
How embarrassing! My stomach
growled and my heart leapt.
from INSTRUCTIONS RECEIVED by NEW COLONY
One soldier's rifle at my back:
for a minute we walked
like this, his barrel, my shirt,
I leading the way, a brother
showing a brother where
to eat, where to hide. Nothing
was wrong the night of Easter,
only this bell calling us
down from the hillside,
its throat saying metal-for-
heartbeats, rise-and-fall-of-the-day,
hope is lost, war is won, orange
trees and candlewax burning.
Here is what the soldier thought:
the footraces when we were young—
people would slow down to scoop
up the yellow apples we would
toss, crisp as a bell ringing.
No, it was more like this:
after the hunt the air is
heavy with birds and frogs,
their lungs inflating like a bell
set loose in the ocean.