Who Speaks My Secret Name
Albert Huffstickler

You look up.
A star blinks.
You look down.
The grass is spinning,
each blade at its own tempo,
weaving its own particular design.
You open your mouth to speak
and a comet shoots down your throat.
The world is declarative like rain
or the beating of your blood.
There are mysteries
but no secrets.
Keep this in mind as
you bear that mammoth, imaginary burden
across your universe.
If you drop the ball,
it will float off like a feather
and no one will ever notice.

ISBN 1-882983-57-2
38 pages $6