Penelope Weiss


Inside the Zoniac

Don’t worry, you said, there are airholes
every few feet, also a shimmering dome.

Don’t forget, you said, locusts are your friends,
also milkweed. Don’t worry, you said, keep cool.
Watch out for iron butterflies.

I want to share my knowledge.
I want to give something back to you

who come to my door every evening
and tell me what you’ve done

what you found each day on earth,
what you ate, what you know about yourself.

Don’t be late.



Volcano

Because it’s windy
the fire blows its brains out.
My eyeball freezes

inside the dome of
an extinct blue volcano.
Hidden in the green

mountains a woman
plays taps on the walls of her
memory. A child

far away translates
her thoughts into melodies.
On the next mountain

blue parrots take up
the songs, teach them to people
who carry the tunes

wherever they go.
Now the blue sounds rise over
the mountains and warm

my eyeball inside
the dome of the volcano
resting in my brain.




Penelope Weiss grew up in New York City and now lives in Shrewsbury, Vermont. Storiana, her collection of stories, was published by Casa de Snapdragon Publishing and is available on Amazon.
 
 
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