Voice Mail

I am currently out
of my office (Choose One):

speaking to a hoard of salt flecked
seals slithering in shallow shoals

roaring my advice through a meadow
lark’s lungs, perched in the president’s tree

juggling anvils, wrists popping with sweat,
indigo veins bulging with rhythm and weight

on vacation with a starlet so famous her name
sends shivers through every fountain in town

hiding behind ebony lenses, living the life
my body in its dull clay has never believed

wading into a pool boiling with dragon’s
breath, climbing heat waves to the jagged stars

Thanks for calling. At the tone please leave
your message. When the sky rips open and Messiah

strides toward earth on a stairway strung of angel’s
hair and breath, you will need no answer from me.

Steve Klepetar

If you've any comments on this poem, Steve Klepetar would be pleased to hear from you.