Tonight, the men have gathered in the field
to shoot down a satellite.

Their voices come unbodied
to the porch, the warped oak
growing into a cross.

A cell tower blinks
some regular strained code
into the sky. I rub my eyes,
watery with light, brush away a moth.

They have come tonight
to drink and stalk
and wave their shotguns at the stars

and say, when they reel off
to bed, we could,
we did. Tomorrow

I will watch the hazy sun
spread over a field
glittering with empties

and the carcass of a massive metal dish,
a giant’s finger bowl, another sun.
A native of Phoenix, Arizona, Katie Cappello earned her MFA from ASU and
from Elixir Press and a chapbook,
A Classic Game of Murder, will be published by
Dancing Girl Press in October.