There are no stars in the sky tonight,
only shards of light somebody hung there
then walked away to forget.
I suppose they’ve been hanging there
for millions of years,
shivering from the cold,
wondering if he’s coming back
or maybe after the first few decades
they’ve figured it out.
There is no wind blowing tonight,
only a kind of inertia
and the air has the color of stale tea.
If you looked at the universe
you could see that it isn’t as orderly
as the scientists would have you believe
it is more of a tragic accident,
this placement of things.
A place where many mistakes can be made.
And if you look inside my heart,
you will find an identical chaos
of needles and skewed cubic blocks of wood
there’s glue everywhere
in my attempt to fix things
and graft several severed limbs
into hollows where they might find a home
but none of them can ever be taught
to feel at ease
and they act up and bleed
because I’m more broken
than the doctors would have you believe
and my spirit has no stars,
and forgotten prophecies.