POETRY BY TOM DUKE

Tom Duke lives in the shadow of Palomar Mountain (Hale Observatory) with his wife, Michelle, two strange dogs, and a furry gray demon who thinks she’s a cat. In addition to writing fiction and poetry, he writes songs and composes guitar instrumentals.

SPYTZ

I met a gypsy space cat ghost
Haunting my new space station post
He calls himself Spytz
And meddles my wits
Insisting that he is my host.

He told me his story in bits
It happened during an eclipse
While taking a nap
An airlock mishap
Took all his nine lives in a blitz.

He sits here purring in my lap
I scratch his ears and rub his back
As the stars ascend
We wink and transcend
Me and my gypsy space ghost cat.

I’ll stay here with him ‘til the end
We need each other, I contend
I shall not reveal
If he’s really real
Or only an imagined friend.

ASHES

I fell into a slipstream story
buried in a book
of the dead. It spawned
a strange and terrible muse
inside my head—that
maybe I was, maybe
I was dead.

I found a pub
and ginned some spirits with the spirits
who lived there in the shadow strip
between full dark and twilight’s drip.
And there I dwelled
for some long time, but not so long
ago. I got my head and belly full, my
belly full. I got low.

I carried my ashes
to the river in a bucket
and poured them in and
poured them in
then sat on the bank
and wriggled my toes
in the sand
listened to the water ripple
and smelled wild grass
on the wind.

I drank the air
and held that breath
then slowly set it free
and watched my dying shadow fade
my shadow fade, for this
was the end—those
ashes
the last
of me.

LIES THE PIT

Inside a Singularity
inside time, inside
the folds of perception
the inner eye—
there lies the Pit.

Beneath sky, beneath
branches, leaves and earth
beneath the decay
of evolution—
there lies the Pit.

Out of thrill of cut
the tyranny of hate
the candor of blood
out of I need and I want—
there lies the Pit.

After the final apple
falls, after apocalypse
after the big freeze, the fade
the final rip—
there lies the Pit.

LILACS

You’re not alone
not lost
I’ll always find you
here
in our secret meadow
beneath a soft blue summer sky
between the woods
and hidden lake

Another me
is back at the cabin
sitting easy
near the open window
with a book
and some tea
an orange tabby
in my lap

Another me
is hiding in sleep
surfing the Deadlands
one dream at a time
never waking
never reaching shore

But this me is
here with you
only you
laughing
crying
holding on
so I can forever
smell the lilacs
in your hair