Who Embezzles Stars

Is the book
still king
on some other planet? Do inventions run

along parallel sun
rays? She asks
these questions without knowing

what to believe
anymore about the universe or red doors. Who

she might trust
to protect these poems
from shattering into weightless space debris

is who she might ask
to answer the rest.

Night Poem

Upside down hurricane
lamps hang
from a ceiling’s exposed

bones in a place
called SPACE. Drapes
for walls, everyone can see

what the cooks are doing
with the night.
There’s nowhere

in this space
to hide. And yet
the singer won’t appear

till it’s time.