Max

Max has a small telescope
Max has a paper and pen
Max, the unpublished poet
Is longing for something

It's a summer night, Max takes his telescope outside
And lies on his back for hours looking at the sky
"Max," I say, "You looking at the stars?" He says "No, at the space between.
I'm looking for that star that no one else has ever seen
And when I find it I can claim it, it will be my own
And then I get to name it and the name will be a poem
About the heavens and the earth, all things temporal and eternal
It will be published in all the papers and the scientific journals"

Max has a small telescope
Max is in love with me
He's a dreamer and I know it
But there's worse things a man could be

"Max, I'm tired" I say "I'm going to bed," he says "Okay
I'll be there in a little while just as soon as it's day"
I drift off to sleep with the stars in my head
At dawn I hear a voice, "Don't move" is what it said
And Max the great explorer of all things heavenly
Is standing in the door with his telescope focused on me
While galaxies collide and novas fade to black
Max recites the poem that names the freckles on my back

Max has a small telescope

©1996 Annie Gallup