JAE THOMES
I Invited the Crow for a Cup of Tea
your mug is still on the table
and I am far too weak to move it
because as long as it stays
it holds your place here
and you are
ethereal
endless
everywhere
flying with wings I wasn’t born with
so I’ll brew a pot
of apricot white tea
and pour it in your mug
so maybe like a crow
you’ll return to me
in these cooler months
and I’ll find
black downy feathers
woven into my sweater and
they will hold your place here.
In God we (t)Rust
I waste myself
in the old stone fountain
filled with rusted coins
and the water gurgles
just like
when our old dog
was foaming at the mouth
in the back seat of the car
and when I was a kid
I swallowed pennies
to make myself a wish
and I wondered if I’d rust
from the inside out
until I turned green
like when you had me help
saw through the ribs
of the pig, in the shop
and the flesh crackled
like bubble wrap
until you told me to stop
so I sat in my room for hours
counting coins until
I wanted to double-die
like Kennedy's half dollar
and maybe
You are the rusting middle class
throwing your back out
to barely break even
ignoring your favorite holiday
in your favorite season
and living to work from
dawn until long after dusk
I wonder if you
wasted yourself
on lotto tickets and liquor
drinking and drinking
as you began to rust
and maybe your spine
has always just been
a stack
of Kansas
quarters.