I apologize, brethren, for the long delay in posting but I was caught up in a flurry of paperwork and grading for the class I teach. It is now, thankfully and sadly, over.

Here's another Poem:

Who Loves the Skeleton?

I. it is the skin we cherish

its color, texture,
smell, the sheen of the fine hairs that spring
from it, how in that spot between the breasts
your palm feels like an egg in the nest

the way it hums and shimmers when we
are near something we love, something
that draws us close in the same way we
draw a breath

how it tingles and weeps when it is broken,
how it reminds us that we are made mostly
of water and iron

II. the skeleton is unfamiliar


strange as caves and ships, distant
as a grandfather in another country

the skeleton shines mostly in the teeth
but even they are impolite to show too much
for fear of demonstrating hunger or of letting
something inside
flow out the mouth