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.