I will return as the shadow of a moon: alone & far from now
I.
The constellation spills from where I open
my mouth & try to inhale the ghost leaving me
Here is a rejection of community beyond
pilfered lagers from garage refrigerators
We all awoke bludgeoned we all slept lightly
& Christ’s blood as arabesques on front doors
under the October wreath I wound with my mother
Our communal punishment was our quiet need
dressed in driftwood & anger at the unnamable
with our shared devotion to familial estrangement
of lying about love & the deconstruction of want
II.
We’ve never had wolves but the ways I’ve seen hunger have turned shriveled eyes into steam
There was a church called hallucination: a chorus of angels choking on mosquitoes & corn husks
Our favorite game to play was hide inside all winter & hope to make it far away come spring
The wildflower field by church smothered in pill dust when a brother or shotgun begged mercy
We bathed in a lake with limbs as detritus & moons as fish & I wanted to summon wolves
That they might teach me to discover dreams & I with fangs bared go howling & flee
poems by nicholas alti 