by Nicklaus Faith


Heart melts into ink.
Burns in the Arctic eternal night.
Melts snow to drips.

Drip drips down manicured lawns. Fills thirsty, floral bellies.
Absorbs light.

Day I’ll move this tower of stone.
And launch your brain into space.
Children of your children will sail past
Oh          so           slow.

Child will spend his Weekends in a brothel in Spain.
The year of Our Lord one-thousand nine-hundred and thirty-three.
He will drink port and smoke French cigarettes.

Cigarette will burn down a forest.
Give your legacy cancer.
Cause the heart to quicken her tempo.

Two hearts, glued together. . . .

Thunder growls through glistening teeth,
Exploring sonic sea-scapes. . . .
One low rumble.

Oh, One.
Bug dead on the moving sidewalk at O’Hare.
Brief images from the grandiose life it led. How vast.
One bug heart, and mine, and yours.

Nicklaus Faith is a self-described “homegrown Okie” whose poetry has appeared at The Curbstone Collective, a literary blog.