Better Than the Movies

The livid tilt of a Hugo poem,
Where the stars are not distant
Winking points but throttling galactic
Aches, and the mind fills and fills
The blackness faster than space
Can fill itself, that breathlessness
That is better than praise or censure,
The verse that sends the heart against
The ribcage like a madman tearing at
The bars of his cell.

About the Author:
Catherine Simpson is a cellist from Santa Barbara. She has been previously published in Right Hand Pointing and Into the Teeth of the Wind.