the astral of Astoria

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(revised on 6/21/16)

in Astoria I can see the stars

pinpricks of light

I think I can call them ‘pretty’ but ‘gorgeous’ is too heavy a word

I’m uneasy and I don’t like that

where have I been transported to?

but I thought I was in love with travel.

a blank page frightens me

I somehow write

I’m somehow inspired

2:30 a.m. — write

in Astoria the sky is clear and someone nice points out Jupiter to me

then I will go home and I will write this and promptly forget the beauty.

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