Last Night by Jason Heroux

Last night a deep-fried chicken wing dreamt it was still alive, and cried. Life soldiers on. On the bus I overheard someone say, even dead leaves look and sound leaf-like if there’s enough wind. Birds are buckets of song raised from a well. The moon is a bucket of light. Pet speck of dust, where’s your leash? Let’s go for a walk.

 


Jason Heroux is currently the Poet Laureate for the city of Kingston, Ontario. His most recent book is Amusement Park of Constant Sorrow (Mansfield Press, 2018).


Photo by Annie Spratt