Adam Pellegrini

Love Poem

Our love is like the wide
storm of trash
quivering off California’s coast—

it’s piling deep and tumbling out
the way a thumb’s thick lava
conquers paper towel.

It churns grocery-bag
necklaces for the wives
of bull whales.

It flies up as flame and volt
in the guts of gulls scooping
AAs and lighters for lunch.

It is hot as piss,
as smog, sea
or sky.

It could melt the shores
into a ring for your
sloshing finger.

You ask, do you really?
You’re afraid
and so am I. This love,

this mess which blots out sunshine,
this mass we leave unmoved,
won’t ever simply dissolve.

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