Starless
A Soliloquy of Not to Be
At a New Year’s party, a woman asked me,
“Do you believe stars can tell our future?”
And I slipped into a long monologue,
or maybe it was a soliloquy,
and told her I was a star-crossed lover...
And like so many lovers, perhaps I would fake my life
or have it fated away no matter what I did or said.
Above you and beyond me, the distant unsteady light
of bright fusion furnaces rise and spin out of control,
and within them, you say there’s some kind of denouement,
a clattering domino destiny, but my vision’s nearsighted.
I’m no astrologer. To me, the twelve houses are full
of meaningless strangers pointing in dark directions
toward impossible destinations that are darker still.
Any future I scry is found in a crystal tumbler of ice,
but first I drain the booze. My vision may blur
but my insight grows clear with every shot.”
I set my glass on the rail and the reflected stars
moved on the swaying surface. “Look at that,
now we’re seeing double. The stars may hold my destiny,
but not as well as I hold ice cold bourbon.
