Dark Impactor

Ben Gunsberg

Ben Gunsberg is an Associate Professor of English at Utah State University. His poems appear in numerous literary magazines, including DIAGRAM, Tupelo Quarterly, and The South Carolina Review. He is the author of two poetry collections, Rhapsodies with Portraits and Welcome, Dangerous Life.

Under normal conditions our solar 

system binds, but a string of holes 

suggests dense shells pierced 

the Milky Way. Light refuses to mark

                                〇

these scars so new to telescopes 

and physicists. They haven’t yet 

been named by lyricists nor 

compared to wailing mouths.

          〇

One reminds me of a wreath 

where buds refuse to grow. Life

refuses to swell like steam from 

its warm bowl. A seam between 

                                〇

each hole reminds me of caution

tape, like the hem of a dress 

extracted from glass (I cannot 

describe the aftermath). What happens 

          〇

when bodies collide in space? How 

few hide in a narrow hallway? 

How many in a closet? If “A” lies 

outside and “B” lies on the floor, 

                     〇

how many targets? The answer 

key waits on the final page, 

where we learn what happens 

to our young, our heavens.