Choice
Stephen Cramer
Tonight, it looks like the stars
have had a few. Orion
is skinny dipping in puddles,
choreographing sweet dance moves
with a streetlamp. Actually,
everything is clearly intoxicated,
from the scent of rain
laced with pine to the grass
tilting beneath our feet.
Let’s face it: as of the most
recent assessment, the day
seems to have had a deficit
of awesome. I mean, even if
the task we’ve been given
is to make a house
out of a hurricane, to make
walls with the whirlwind,
to board by board create
the floor we walk on,
what choice do we have
but to drive lightless all night
& honk at all the moths?
It’s far past time to walk
a shattered sidewalk that hasn’t
already memorized my stride, to speak
with an eloquence that tends to slur
into grunt & groan, time to
all night long hook elbows with awe.