Jody Azzouni

Poetry

Starlight, Starbright

Originally published in Artword Quarterly 13, Summer, 1998
Added 3/17/2019
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Starlight, Starbright

Poem | Jody's Notes

 

                                                What men are poets who can speak of Jupiter if

                                                he were a man, but if he is an immense spinning

                                                sphere of methane or ammonia must be silent?

 

                                                                        —R. Feynman

 

 

 

Nightfall, a friendly ash,

sticks to everything: makes

me think of heaven. The dumb

stars too are hopeless. Only Greeks,

flimsy with evidence, connected the dots;

sketched imaginary companions like children.

Nowadays mad gravity dominates

even the scattered heavens; the black

hole, where spacetime sleeps

crunched like a button, embraces light:

an eye gone stomach.

 

Do I have to say it? Some people

like this sort of thing. But they too

die, and find themselves nowhere.