Birthday, Party of Six

Benjamin Niespodziany

[1]

We sat
bruised
in the shoebox
of the king.

[2]

God was in the tree
eating someone
we once knew
so well.

[3]

The caretaker was
aware of the shadows
we did
not have.

[4]

God asked us
and God asked us
and we exhaled
more fog.

[5]

Shovel
entered earth
like knife
through pie.

[6]

The window
its own world,
too windful
to close.
Benjamin Niespodziany writes poems while working the night shift at his library.
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