This word was born during the time
of the wandering stars.
Every morning, it lifts its
eyes towards heaven.
It lives in Burracho Beach, California.
Its mother is Emma Bovary.
Its father is Ebenezer Scrooge.
This word is a cool remove
from the language of the heart.
Its mouth is small, cold, and bitter.
Its heart is buried
beneath a pile of pennies.
Its soul is a gilded cage
holding two confused doves.
Every evening this word
buries its face in its hands.
About David Kowalczyk
David Kowalczyk lives and writes in the small cannery town of Oakfield, New York. His poetry and fiction have been published in seven anthologies and over a hundred magazines and journals, including Taj Mahal Review, The Delinquent, The Maynard, and California Quarterly. He has taught English in South Korea and Mexico as well as at Arizona State University.
