we are walking together near 7th and 50th
she’s all black curls and big eyes
I’m all limbs and awkward
the normal “us” things
a ragged-hard looking guy
pushing an empty wheelchair
yells at me
hey man hey man he says
your shirt, I like your shirt
which says Pluto 1935-2006:
revolve in peace
little friend
it’s admittedly a personal favorite
borrowed (stolen actually)
from a female roommate
and this guy is all flailing limbs
gaping mouth and spittle on his chin
and with all of that going on
wanting to talk about dwarf planets
moons
asteroids
he’s wildly gesticulating
conducting an orchestra
taming a lion
fighting an octopus
he’s so excited
I am sure nobody
has ever been this excited about
an astronomy shirt
I talk with him a bit as I walk
down the sidewalk following
all those black curls
she is my gravity
pulling
and I’m saying yes yes I know man
it’s such a shame about Pluto
and then we’re crossing the street
together
away from him
out of his orbit
Dov Weinman is an Oregon born mountain-poet that enjoys ultramarathons and raising chickens. His poetry has appeared in the Whitefish Review, Poetica Magazine, Canary and other publications. After a M.S. in environmental studies from the University of Montana he became a Peace Corps volunteer for coastal resource management in the Philippines.