Poetry: 2 Poems by Jessica Van de Kemp
Neptune’s Diamond Rain
Mad snowing sky confirms the little feeling in my big gut
that one day soon the power will go off, in the gentlest night,
and it will be hard to wake up from my sleep. If this were Neptune,
the last thing I would see alive is angry diamond rain. The bed
would sink into crystal carbon. The bed would be the farthest thing
from the sun. The night would become night in the day, as if closing
its eyes to the answer to its question, killing the truth from sight.
Winging It Daily
Cutting to the chase in the middle of lovemaking, the fire
heads for the brain. Playing popular music for the sheepdog
at the veterinarian’s office as he goes into surgery. We listen
in the same way for signs of life or death. Around midnight,
eating a breakfast of tequila over the smoking hood of a GT.
Picking out names for a first-trimester baby, everyone we hate
comes to mind like the smell of bread burning in steel toaster.