Necrostellar Holdings and Loan

James D'Agostino

In the grand scream of things
it must take a lot of instability
for the sky to make that face.
Me, I got nothing to say, just
lots of explaining to do. Up
and up, I fucked. I'd fall
for anything, but I'm already
down. I've forgotten how

to see any of this. Took down
a couple of clouds and called
it a day, 
a nursery of eternity.
In five billion years the sun 
will swallow us all, but wait 
until you see where it spits us
out. Here in our pale green 
early, yellow really late, 
another in trouble but love it
bubble bursts. Pear trees sop 
the lot light, a foam of bloom, 
flower, froth brought forth.
Right about now's when 
forsythia means foresight
but hadn't even hinted it'd
been one big blonde all along.
Say I maybe name me some
more sorbets staring at a sunset.
Not just which shit looks how,
but how it makes you feel,
therefore, look more, or out
at something else. The ants

are coming. Turn off the TV.
No. First watch with me
Peruvian Mint Green Opal.
Milky cloud break shadow
sharpens. Nighttime windows
ice with buyable light and yeah
as a child I hid
 and sought.
If I told you 
I used to hear
frontier as from tear and still
wanted to go, would you
believe me or take me or both,
whatever, we've just really got
to leave. Now. I might not
catch much,
 but I've always
been good at misunderstanding.

For years I thought it was Fred
of Stair. There might be a clarity
 but what's worse what
little sense gets made gets busted
up often all of a sudden and just
as it rolls off the line. It's still
spring. The leaves begin trees.
Dirt and sky, David Bowie's
eyes. We're all dead star.
A dying gaseous cluster makes
such May of this moment.
A mothy month there's so much in
I can't even can't. The clouds do

a thing. The sudden jelly
of a monarch on the windshield.
How some songs seem 
a skin.
You crash two darknesses together
you know you get light, right?