Alien Child

Beholding the baby, you could not see yourself

in him. He had his mother's flesh and form, but none

of you: a hybrid of your wife plus something else,

something indecipherable that struck you dumb.

And as he grew, his face grew more foreign to you:

inexplicable expressions, pure smiles, pure frowns,

eyes imbibing all things, as if visiting new

planets in each poor corner of his run-down town.

And as he grew, his faith grew more native in you:

you found comfort in his otherness, in this cross

between your woman and her lover—now in view

as your love too—and in his freedom from your flaws.

Nexus

Where is the crux of time’s continuum,

the terminal of every wormhole?

Where do all spirits, whether luminous

or ruined, converge in a whirlwind?

Lost in the swirl of wings and fiery eyes,

both tweakers and time travelers end their trips there.

All bullets break through space’s barriers

and burrow in the marrow of the man there.

Rippling through space and time,

all prayers reach there and finally rhyme.

At the core of contradiction,

the sign of perpendicular lines,

lies the site where all sacrifices unite.