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I am exhausted by the gods. I called their names for years,
waited for the chorus to busk a tune I could believe in, one
“Radioactive decay is the set of various processes by which unstable atomic nuclei (nuclides) emit subatomic particles. Decay is said to occur in the parent nucleus and produce a daughter nucleus.”
When the dog, at last, is satisfied, we descend
from the highest peak we’ve dared test our spikes
groan and heave in heavy labor.
On the packed Purple Line Express train, Emma pretends that every person touching her is someone that she knows and loves.
They have no names on their jerseys, only numbers. Names boost the ego, the former coach had said. Names separate the team. We all win. We all lose.
Unquiet Things is the debut collection by James Davis May, a poet with prodigious powers of observation and description. May makes metaphors and similes from everyday things in ways that elevate both the object and its comparison into something arresting and original.
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