What’s Little – Justin Million – April 29

Synapse Writer-In-Residence #NPM16

What’s Little

Dreams have an atomic weight,
and so are real.

Mine had no gravity
when I was 3,

standing atop the coffee
table, reaching

with my fishing net,
the roof, all stars

and a comet always coming
and I know I can fly

and I can catch it
because I can make it caught.

Pretend has an atomic weight.
I think my mother knew, could see it,

my air ideas that would
fuzzy the room,

make real disbelief
of the air, the actual

room not really a moon
with a red red

rose under dust blue glass,
wasn’t a small yellow house

on Sydenham Rd., a living room,
but a launchpad

where comets get in,
where boys do imaginary

science-

My mother stayed home
so I could always be leaving the earth

loved, a little thing
on cartoon fire

in a sturdy yellow home
in a real world

all pretend
guts.