
Astralgia
The sun still sets in the west
But the moon is upside down
Its silent seas reversed
Swirling clockwise into an ocean
That lulls me to sleep
Like interstate traffic back home
The stars still rise in the east
Or emerge from a purple twilight
But I don’t know half of them
Just a broken cross near a centaur
Five pinpricks in the south
And the north is all wrong
They say water drains backwards here
But I haven’t noticed
It’s not the language nor the women
It’s the sky that reminds me
On this side of the equator
I am alien
About Bartholomew Barker
Bartholomew Barker is an organizer of Living Poetry, a collection of poets in the Triangle region of North Carolina where he has hosted a monthly feedback workshop for more than decade. His first poetry collection, Wednesday Night Regular, written in and about strip clubs, was published in 2013. His second, Milkshakes and Chilidogs, a chapbook of food inspired poetry was served in 2017. He was nominated for a Pushcart Prize in 2021. Born and raised in Ohio, studied in Chicago, he worked in Connecticut for nearly twenty years before moving to Hillsborough where he lives and writes poetry.
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