With Other Wings

I leave no marks on the taut terrain
of summer’s belly, the unbroken line
to the valley, fronds in procession
along either side of a dry creek

but with other wings, maps unfurl like
invitations, moths spell a lightbulb joke
in binary and the marigolds lose it

Choosing the ripest of nights, its petals folded
yet open to persuasion, I touch down
on each corner to taste the street signs

until finding the traces you left there one
wingless night when cars limped through
the heat and moths fell like leaves

I alight as delicately as a pickpocket
on your rising and falling warmth, survey all
that lies before me, know that I am found









A poet, critic and humorist, Dan Wiencek studied writing at Purdue University and his work has appeared in McSweeney’s Internet Tendency, Hypertrophic Literary and New Ohio Review, among other publications. He lives in Portland, Oregon and is currently working on his first collection of poems.