Two Poems

Poetry / Jessica Poli

Ontology no. 1

At first, one might feel that faith is merely a product of love.
The night lies just like the rest of us. I hope for a day when the crops don’t fail
but we also get to rest.
You make elegant circles through the field. I’ve made
a religion out of waiting.
Letting night be night and love
be what it is. What happens between air and light, between moon
and hayfield? Not settling for a partial theory,
I devour love whole.

Ontology no. 2

The brain makes a room for music. Before there was paint,
there was bone. No one knows
what dreams demand. Last night I fastened a necklace made of stars
dripping cold milk. You moved through shifting boxes
of hay and smoke.
In the morning I open the barn doors to the smell of horse piss, lemon,
hawk and wind. To hear the daily soft sounds of love,
you have to know when to listen.

Jessica Poli is the author of the chapbooks Alexia (Sixth Finch), Glassland (JMWW), and The Egg Mistress (Gold Line Press). Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Caketrain, Sonora Review, and Southern Indiana Review, among others. She is a recent graduate of Syracuse University’s MFA program, and the editor of Birdfeast.