Morning Sickness

I feel ill when I wake up 

from the want to talk and having

no words to fill an empty page. 

Something hiding in my stomach

hungers for the lull of the storm. 

I dream in satellite-red film

and toss and turn in asteroid dust.

When I open my eyes they spill

over with the gasoline I keep 

leftover in my full, violent heart. 

I make sure not to laugh 

hard enough to ignite the sparks.

A fear of catching fire in outer space;

burning like a star nobody would miss

if it vanished from the night sky.

Reviews

[Delmar Cooper]

"Pent up" There seems implied a waiting explosion, the energy is there, stored, pausing in latent moment before the instant all becomes kinetic. During the wait a fear of the ultimate result. Space seems the only venue that gives scope to this outpouring, when it comes.