Poem to Sew into My Family Tapestry

By Alec Montalvo

moon and stars

I don’t know about the others,
      but my Grandma once
            told me how God stares
      back at us through the stars
and when they fall, or run
across the night sky, it means
      you might have done something
            wrong. So follow it up
      with three Hail Marys
and get to mass next Sunday.

I don’t know about the others,
      but my father once pointed
            at a sheer crescent moon
      and told me it was God’s
toenail. I’m not sure
what he was getting at,
      but with the toenail moon pierced
            through the soft navy backdrop
      of sky, I couldn’t help but wonder
where the nail met the toe,

where the toe met the foot, to the leg,
   to his torso, maybe lounging
      on a yellow stained cot,
            watching us through
            trillions of tiny stars like pixels
      on his dimensional tube screen,
   with omniscient eyes bleeding
swarms of extradimensional bees.

Category: Featured, Poetry