Now that the sun has set and the rain has abated,
And every porch light
in the neighborhood is lit,
Maybe we can invent something; I’d like a new
Way of experiencing the world, a way of taking
Into myself the single light shining at the center
Of all things without losing the dense, eccentric
Planets orbiting around it.
What you’d like is a more
Attentive lover, I suppose—. Too bad that slow,
Wet scorch of orange blossoms floating towards
The storm drain is not a vein of stars . . . we could
Make a wish on one of them; not that we would
Wish for anything but the impossible.