Heart to Heart with Smokey

A Poem by Cory Adamson

Spread-eagle in the earthen pudding.
That’s the big, cursive “FIN” Smokey,
that’s Valhalla. One Aztec sacrifice
after another to defeat the Sky and Earth
in a staring contest. That’s the climax
to this crescendo, Smokey.
You can bet your firstborn baby on it.
What are we doing Smokey? Fighting a war
with chalk-colored clouds. How many marathons
must a man run before he gets his medal?

I need a brother.

Flat on your back, nose-deaf to the turned
earth, you think of secret isles and
honest politicians. So you build clay wings
and fly like the emperor penguin.


A Poem by Cory Adamson

The poet
strikes against paper
            like a sword.

Swings, sings out
and ends time for one.
            One movement.

One beauty,
A union of two
            strangers who

Looked but could
 not find each other.
            So one wrote.

And one found.
One movement ended
            The other’s

days. For swords
end lives and pens make ends
            for swordsmen.

The poet does both
and an end shall come
       swifter than any sword