the platitudes of willful resemblance

My heart is broken.

the post office doesn’t deliver to heaven.

and you’ve crossed the bridge

and are going home

——–

this is my star.
          bewildered,
     hanging down
     our heads
this is my star.

this is my star,
          vainly wishing and
     wishing on planets
     and suns
this is my star.

on bended knees
with clenching fists
praying or raging at your
Christian God

this is my star,
         to wonder and
     wonder and
     wonder,
this is my star.

 – Hoc Scripsi