Beetlebung and Kettlehole--April Poems

Gemini

A celestial zoo this life is, she mopes, like the misty nebulae or the stars spilled in clusters, sparkling white on black, worming in holes, while she swirls in blues at the rim of the galaxy. Those glittering lights from aeons ago, apparitions playing at the vault of her world, she sees through them perfectly now, Pollux the bright golden boy and lascivious Venus from nearby. She guesses how they must have joined seeds in her own Milky Way, slipping out at night under cloudy skies, and how she watched him leave for good, flailing arms, stunned by her rage. He was born under Gemini; no wonder, a two-timer.


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April 28—the stars, or a particular star or constellation