Holly Appling

conjugation

…j’attends des sons.
meteor showers mark
the languor

with a 24-hour clock
for practice crossing the timeless
Atlantic—

a wedge jammed
the static
portal, the wormhole squirrely

as I recall
the sequence of past
events: there is a conjugation

for every crazy
thing I’ve done—a certain
tense for the most gentle memory,

an ending
accenting each reaction
and objection long

forgotten—how clever.
as if by fire, my own langue étrangère.
are we there yet?

my love, it may take a lifetime
to sound…
less ridiculous.