the planets

you
carried the solar system
on the surface
of a CD--

made two-dimensional 
orbit--

rainbow refraction--

replacing gravity

we swore we could
see gravity--
smooth & metallic in
our fingers--

greedily
stuffing our pockets--

it felt like tinsel 

or the pull of the CD player
as it swallowed us
into our mother's
blue station wagon--

began playing 
the seven movement 
orchestral suite
of Gustav Holst 

the planets 

what made him think
he could give a voice
to someone as
loud as saturn?

me & you walked all the way
out to the sixth planet 
just to see what she really
sounded like--

the sidewalk 
is full of black holes 

& we lose the car keys--

boom box floating 
by in the vastness of space--

when we arrive
we find the rings are really
made of sheet music 

& cassette tapes dismantled--
their insides halo-making 

we hear it--

the soft hush of violin 
& trumpet & drums
recoiling from mallets-- 

saturn 
the bringer of old age 

i don't know if
you still have that CD
but if you don't we can
take a walk again--

past the blinking neons
lights of jupiter 
& the lusty cloud cover
of earth--

past the war-torn heat of 
mercury 

& the love-poem moons 
of venus--

i always liked saturn 

the way she keeps
a hula hoop--

the way she believes 
in flutes & 
the quiet yet to
come out of our bones--

when we are old 

& i forget what the planets
sound like will you
remind me?

catch the boom box

or push the CD into
my mouth--

past my teeth--

who knew the solar system
would be so easily devoured 

i'll let myself become
entangled in her rings--

open my mouth 

a phonograph body--

& when you sit
out on the porch--

ghost of a violin in one hand--
steering wheel in the other

listen close 
for me--

& steal another handful 
of gravity