Nicodemus Nicoludis: We’re No Longer Responsible
when i think of january i think of you
the simple moon
& my books on the windowsill
as we cross our shadows
looking for the cat howling
in the alley traps these feelings again
& snow is coming
the first of the year
sort of late
& like when i touch your hand
or face especially this morning
it’s a sort of anticipation of the thing itself
as much as the result
the cause & causation of cold
of heat of blankets
& our nakedness
silent for the night
if you asked me what it was like starting over
maybe this is the feeling that comes just before that starting
two people having just fucked trying to shut up
some cat who wants the same thing
but doesn’t know anything
but how to wreck itself in the night
& call up towards the lonely spotlight
frozen over brooklyn
paper lanterns
i
across the city on windy nights
we light the paper lanterns chris bought in chinatown
we cheer for them to miss the apartments
& old-folks homes across 1st avenue
we watch them fade
into more Brooklyn light pollution
we’re no longer responsible
ii
on the 4th of july
they reached straight up
becoming more quick light
in the painted orange sky
tiny fires burning slower
now in dense september
quietly wanting more air
they sink & eat out of the dark
ahead of us
with a shove they slide back & forth
waddling towards low clouds
hanging curtain-like
iii
over new york there are paper lanterns floating
while i invent new ways of learning to disappear
Nicodemus Nicoludis is a poet and writer living in Brooklyn, NY. He has been a featured poet at brooklynpoets.org and his work appears in Potluck Mag, Maudlin House, Chronogram and elsewhere. He earned an MFA from Sarah Lawrence College, teaches at the Borough of Manhattan Community College, and tweets randomly @nicodemvs.
