I smell stars, loudly –
singing rings of chorus, orbits. Towards us, comets—
named them after us. Named them Halley,
Hale-bopp— tear drops
I can lay
on my back on the hillside
by the road,
sniffing out Cadillacs and autoshow
Edsels, winesap taillights, tasting
speed, and cinnamon
blood, hot blood shining
in pale moonlight—
tar black engine oil blood.
A Jake brake pulses, echoes, and rolls
over hills. It fills the still air, the stale night
and bare trees with shuddering leaves.
In rings of purple my retinas lattice
tear detach. Afterimage burns which streak
in green neon
through my galaxy
of void I see all.
CJ Cioc is a Rosemont College graduate with his MFA in Creative Writing. His poetry collection “Capitulum” recently earned him Thesis of the Year and thesis with distinction. As an undergrad he served as a contributing editor for the campus magazine, Calliope, before graduating with his BA in English. He was awarded the Martha E. Martin Writing award for both Fiction and Poetry. CJ lives in the Pocono Mountains where he enjoys backpacking on the Appalachian Trail, sleeping in, and mending stone walls.