“Write a poem about an angel turning human.”
Hello heaven,
can you feel my gravestone
linger like the one day cold?
You made a tumbling world move
pushed every curve into herds
pushed every pound into pines
in one thousand ways, this rock alive.
Yet, here I browse in the subway-
watching rats in the dark
shuffles in the cracks.
God’s gravity has grown so stale,
once overfilling and now just drizzling
like the graffiti I feel on my own skin
lighter with the memories.
Disengaged from the wind- I ache,
waiting for my wings to froth and fro
with me old temperature that fought the ground
until the clouds showed me rain
and I pelted and pelted with the water down
and mud and snow and the grey
and then I am the wild shadow called human
skimming through the blinking universe
bridging the cold and the hot
searching for a breakthrough,
breaking everything for a handhold in the sky
where one day I will return,
and the winds with take my home.
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