person Alex Hoshor, three poems

ALEX HOSHOR will tell you like he told me that he wrote the following and stopped

(

GLANCING

it’s hard to look away, to hush the night under this moon’s colloquial pearl. brittle galaxy of the winged and the legged busy telling each other everything, fizzing within the big bang of earshot, within a stoned throw. so I may raise my voice enough to carry south what doesn’t pool at my feet like shadow in prayer cast. dear someone, somewhere out there, I am sorry as an unopened letter. something is owed, though not unending as the vague black overhead, but in the way the stars vie for little pieces of it. whispers and shivers of everything I wish I could tell you.

)

COYOTE DECOY

just as quickly
we’re burdened
with

there’s more

to not eating
the rose

(

ONE INNOCENT

seems I’ve already
written the preface
to your story
about watching the
angels fly after
my body as
it scattered from
heaven into the
starving bellies of
distant enough wolves

three nights ahead
I was dreaming
of you kissing
me just softly
between my eyes

and of children
chasing a lamb
around the silence
of a grave

)