Shannon Jonas

November spills its ink into the Michigan sky

Night opens like the bell that peals over the apple orchards


One note--first note--two three--the fourth holds then trails off

The last note--nothing after this & nothing else like it


Like a concussed bird I fill in the gaps

Of where I was & where I should be--if all goes well I’ll sleep


I won’t remember anything

Night has consolidated its stars to a whisper O holy void


It sounds like branches groaning in the wind in winter--

The moon is a concave chest close to its heart that


Pumps blood to my cochlea to hear the lisps of stars--

I pick small shells of sound from the sand--


The shore is abandoned because there is a shark infestation

The waves are dying for blood & the shore is dying for news


Shark teeth fish scales & stars coat the shore like snow

I’m afraid of teeth & stars--scales & snow I can build a home with


No news from the stars is good news

I am introduced to nature--


I think about lost birds calling to nothing as nothing calls back to them

Once when I was awake & it was dawn


I was awake & it was dawn


The Young Housewife  

          Hume again has fallen


             down the wine-cellar stairs--


A fish-man sibilant & convulsive


                swimming the landing--



I’ve learned not to offer


a hand in his ascension--



I smooth my dress over my hips & thighs



                                         rub my eyes



& exit the house--


By lantern light I thrash the hedge-maze with a sword