The Birth Of Night

Poem By Chris Tusa

The earth was without form, and void;
and darkness was on the face of the deep.
-Genesis 1: 2


When the earth was merely a lump of phlegm
sticky in the hollow of God’s throat,
silence wheezed and I was born,
dark and clean, a black breath sucked deep
from an empty space in his lung.

It was I who swallowed the sun,
who woke before the orange-red blush
ripened in the leaves of trees
where fruit hung heavy-
I who carved the edges of the moon,
who sharpened stars like teeth.

Gloriously divided from light,
I was the world’s one dark element,
long before the shape of Man
blinked in a red puff of clay
and Eve’s pale-fisted body squirmed
in the bony womb of Adam’s rib.

Comments about The Birth Of Night

I love 'bony womb of Adam's rib'! , 'sharpened stars like teeth'! Your language is like, well, like a sumptuous dessert, is the what comes to mind!


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My grandmother’s teeth stare at her
from a mason jar on the nightstand.

The radio turns itself on,

Ode To Gumbo

after Sue Owen

Born from flour anointed with oil,
from a roux dark and mean as a horse’s breath,

Snow White, To The Prince

after Susan Thomas

Truth is, my life was no fairytale,
that afternoon, I lay, a smiling corpse

Prozac

Divine and white,
you’re an aspirin fit for the gods,
the powdery ghost of Gandhi
conjured into a bottle,

The Tooth Fairy On Welfare

A sudden surge of boys
with their smiles punched out,
care of a local Tough Man contest.
It was all I needed

Photograph Of A Missing Girl In A Barbershop Window

You stand in the gray air,
your face a mirror reflecting
the dark shadows of trees.
Clouds drift in the brown water