Insex
They’re hiding in the bedroom
In the blankets and the rugs.
They’re scratching in the mattress—
A bunch of horny bugs.
They’re bouncing in the backseat
Under covers in the car.
They’re poking in the parking lot.
They’re everywhere we are.
They’re playing at the picnic
In the bushes and the trees,
But no one ever notices,
No one ever sees.
Those horny little insects!
From rising moon to sun,
They’re everywhere around us
And having much more fun.
Keeping Things Holy
pace Mark Strand
In a church
I am the absence
of church.
This is
always
the case.
Wherever I am
I am
what is missing.
When I walk
I part
the sacred air
and always
the blessed air
moves in
to fill
the spaces
where my body’s been.
We all
have reasons
for moving.
I move
to keep things
holy.
Charles Ghigna is a syndicated columnist for Tribune Media Services and the author of more than 60 books of poetry published by Random House, Disney-Hyperion, Scholastic, Simon & Schuster, and others. His poems have appeared in The New Yorker, Harper’s, Rolling Stone, and other publications. He is a former poetry editor of The English Journal for the National Council of Teachers of English.