3 poems by Kyle Harvey

The World Beyond the Poem

for Neeli Cherkovski

The pumpkins are
almost big enough

to carve
to let rot

on the front porch
the death of it

the candle wax
& mold of it

the candle wax of death
I’ll figure it out

but not right now
how to carry it

this sadness
this rotting smile

the stench of it
inside the mask

I’ll figure it out
but not right now

I want to be a dead poet
but not right now

I want to drink espresso
with Neeli Cherkovski

late nights at
the immortal cafe

smoke cigarettes
with Jack Mueller

I want to be a dead poet
but not right now

I’ll figure it out
I hope

I’ve been there before
to Hope

a small town on I29
I’ve been there before

I’ll figure it out
how to carry it

this sadness
this

sadness
candle wax of death

this jack-o-lantern’s
soft dull teeth

the poem it reads
the sadness of it

slurred
the poem

rotten
with reason

the world beyond
the poem

always expanding

Jack, I don’t know what to say.

Yesterday
there was an ocean. Now it’s gone.

Every house is filled with years,
every year filled with sadness.

We light no small fire to keep
our pipes from freezing.

We sing no insignificant song
to keep our hearts thawed.

Let me fall asleep in this poem.
Let me wake from this dream
& into another.

To be carried like time across lapping waves

To wash upon some distant shore

but a chance inside someone else’s dream—

whose toes are those?
Whose knees are these?
Pardon me miss,
whose nose is this?

To be a roll of Mallarmé’s dice — to be a roll of your own.