Nothing Stays
The stars are never where you left them when you overstay the party. You know what I mean. We’ve all seen the famous migration of wildebeest, and in theory, at least, we understand the shiver of electrons inside a salad fork. Only the dam at Troy, New York, has kept the salt from rising northward. A pheasant is not open for inspection unless you’ve had it stuffed. Even then, it is not the same bird that surprised you in the corn. It is the warmth of a woman left inside your bed as she’s picking up the things you had earlier removed.
Charles says, I’d want to be one of the 3 pianos the Beatles used to create the final chord for “A Day in the Life.”
In our dream band, on piano:
Charles Rafferty has a new collection of prose poems from BOA Editions – A Cluster of Noisy Planets. His poems have appeared in The New Yorker, Ploughshares, The Night Heron Barks, and The Southern Review.
Ran Off With the Star Bassoon 