Who’s astonished by the way
stars smell like communion wafers?
Already the galaxy’s priests
have rounded up the runaways.
Whoever has ash on their tongue
is doubly blessed. There once
was a drummer boy
whose drumstick had eyes.
Every star he ever paddled
carried a scent of water.
Whoever speaks in stars
has a steel drum for a heart.
Percussion is a matter of attunement.
