Pilot
Someone who tunnels down and away was other
My mother said, you’re going where I can’t be with you
As a glass idol fills its own presence with lack
The stairs down into each self—how one door
opened where the man was let in
Public as flame, the self with no interior
One hadn’t hearing for doubt in that place seen as clear
With him on the street, my spine was agent a world
extended into, sweeping a path
Sometimes coming back in dreams, that other kind of transparency
How our safety felt unreasonable, like I was doing something wrong
______________________________________________________________________________
Rachel Moritz is the author of two chapbooks, The Winchester Monologues (2005) and Night-Sea (2008), both from New Michigan Press. Her poetry has been published in Colorado Review, Denver Quarterly, Free Verse, HOW2, typo, 26, and other journals. She co-edits poetry for Konundrum Engine Literary Review, and also publishes a poetry chaplet and broadside series, WinteRed Press. Moritz lives and works in Minneapolis.