- Lightning 2
Were every star rolled into a straw
and snorted; were the noon sun spied through
a pinhole— these fall shy of my singed,
singular rapture. Trust in this: I
will—thrown down (broken, cold) across this
globe—bleach your rods and cones. We both live
in easeful fleetingness. Don’t flee it. [End Page 107]
Derek Mong is the author of Other Romes (Saturnalia Books), the poetry editor at Mantis, and a doctoral candidate in English Literature at Stanford. New work has appeared or will soon appear in The Laurel Review, The Kenyon Review, and the anthology 99 Poems for the 99 Percent. He lives in Portland, OR.