Mary Ann Honaker
The Basement
All day the fat flakes fall but do not stick.
The daffodils bend their stems, spill their golden cups.
The daffodils bend their stems, spill their golden cups.
Between the stars is other matter, dark matter.
We don't know what it is. It bends gravity.
We don't know what it is. It bends gravity.
The snowflakes appear to defy gravity
by falling down but never landing.
by falling down but never landing.
No surface holds them, although I can feel
their cold brush my cheek. When I go in,
their cold brush my cheek. When I go in,
my coat is dry. This is how little
an impression most people leave on me.
an impression most people leave on me.
Dark energy drives the accelerating expansion of the universe.
Darkness drives the expansion of the soul.
Darkness drives the expansion of the soul.
I could go down into my basement. I can't keep ignoring
what is there. Dark energy is 68% of the observable universe.
what is there. Dark energy is 68% of the observable universe.
Whales swim in my subconscious. Fucking leviathans.
Giant squid. I need to take a look into my depths.
Giant squid. I need to take a look into my depths.
It's not love, but dark energy, which will tear us apart again.
When expansion stops, contraction begins,
When expansion stops, contraction begins,
until we arrive at the point of the next big bang.
Will I live it all over again, this life?
Will I live it all over again, this life?
Will I still mistake love, looking to my right for it,
when it is standing on my left?
when it is standing on my left?
It's not true that we use only 10% of our brains.
Most of a human brain is active most of the time.
Most of a human brain is active most of the time.
Let's say next time around I use not just my whole brain,
but my entire soul, and we fall into humid love,
but my entire soul, and we fall into humid love,
passionate and irritable. The soul weighs 21 grams.
All 21 grams I slather on you, covering your body.
All 21 grams I slather on you, covering your body.
But I don't imagine things could work out. I don't even imagine
I'd come out of it with my jawline intact.
I'd come out of it with my jawline intact.
With a scented candle in a jar, I duck into my basement.
You're seated there on a throne. The candle smells like cinnamon.
You're seated there on a throne. The candle smells like cinnamon.
The darkness expands, pushing stars farther apart. What I'm seeing
is irrational. The flame gutters, then releases a ghost of smoke.
is irrational. The flame gutters, then releases a ghost of smoke.
I Disappear in The Night
I step over the night's sharp teeth,
walk down its throat.
I'm swallowed. I am my shadow.
walk down its throat.
I'm swallowed. I am my shadow.
In the distance, gunshots.
There are always gunshots at night.
There are always gunshots at night.
Then silence floods back in,
a river released from its dam.
A stream of moonlight waters the grasses,
a river released from its dam.
A stream of moonlight waters the grasses,
builds a sturdy path of shine.
You can follow it, but it will get you
You can follow it, but it will get you
no closer to the moon. Daylight eats it up
like a ribbon of licorice. The next night
it will appear again at a changing angle.
like a ribbon of licorice. The next night
it will appear again at a changing angle.
The grasses caress each other's throats as the night sighs.
I sigh and turn liquid. I flow directionless.
I sigh and turn liquid. I flow directionless.
A dog's sharp bark shakes the windowpanes.
The air trembles and I follow the tremble,
crawling hand over hand.
The air trembles and I follow the tremble,
crawling hand over hand.
Mostly the world pulls back into houses.
Mostly the darkness is itself, the primordial mother.
Mostly the darkness is itself, the primordial mother.
Mother's children are the owl, the moth,
the opossum, the coyote, and the deer
that leaps in front of headlights, startling.
the opossum, the coyote, and the deer
that leaps in front of headlights, startling.
You can't know what's around the next bend
of this mountain road. I would need to go very far
of this mountain road. I would need to go very far
into night's belly to see the milky way.
My city glows upward, a red smear on the horizon.
Without city lights, night would be whole,
My city glows upward, a red smear on the horizon.
Without city lights, night would be whole,
with no ground and no sky.
It would be bones and flesh then.
It would be bones and flesh then.
You could hear its heartbeat.
My illness holds me in night's teeth,
so I am closer to death than most are.
My illness holds me in night's teeth,
so I am closer to death than most are.
Ghosts no longer frighten me.
They are as humdrum as morning coffee.
They are as humdrum as morning coffee.
They happen, then they slide through
the sane fissure of morning.
No one finds me or my shadow in the night.
the sane fissure of morning.
No one finds me or my shadow in the night.
I can stay there for days.
The Words are Scattered All Around Us
like leaves underfoot on a forest trail.
Like petals slipping from spring trees.
So there must be words to describe
Like petals slipping from spring trees.
So there must be words to describe
the small engine humming within me,
its starts and fits, like a fan with an electrical issue.
I have an electrical issue. Thoughts sometimes
its starts and fits, like a fan with an electrical issue.
I have an electrical issue. Thoughts sometimes
don't make it from one side of my mind to the other.
There's a frayed rope bridge, and they tumble off.
They fall into the senselessness into which we were born.
There's a frayed rope bridge, and they tumble off.
They fall into the senselessness into which we were born.
They splay on the rocks below. Now they are only letters, syllables.
I fall down through my couch. The granite and shale of the mountain
enfolds me. I shift in the rock. I am swallowed.
I fall down through my couch. The granite and shale of the mountain
enfolds me. I shift in the rock. I am swallowed.
I can live like this for days—inside the earth,
in perpetual night. When I climb out the sun
is a tremendous aura of shine, and I stumble, blind.
in perpetual night. When I climb out the sun
is a tremendous aura of shine, and I stumble, blind.
I shiver in the wind. It is hard for me to be in the world.
My little engine rattles and heaves. I lay down in the grass.
People driving by slow down to see if I'm dead. I raise two thumbs up.
My little engine rattles and heaves. I lay down in the grass.
People driving by slow down to see if I'm dead. I raise two thumbs up.
Mostly I am dead, though. The sun shifts over me unnoticed.
A film forms over my eyes. This morning a film covered everything—
a dense fog—and I felt a rogue little joy skip in me,
A film forms over my eyes. This morning a film covered everything—
a dense fog—and I felt a rogue little joy skip in me,
that the world now knows what I know daily.
The fog pressed itself against the dining room window
like a thousand thousand ghosts wanting to sit at the table.
The fog pressed itself against the dining room window
like a thousand thousand ghosts wanting to sit at the table.
Words filter down around me like snow.
I can grasp them in my hand, although they dissolve quickly
in my heat. This is how I know I'm alive.
I can grasp them in my hand, although they dissolve quickly
in my heat. This is how I know I'm alive.
Notes
The title for "I Disappear in the Night" is a line from Boy Harsher's "Tears," from Careful.
The title for "The Words are Scattered All Around Us" is a line from The Plague of Doves by Louise Erdrich.
