Sitting On a Bed In The Middle Of The Milky Way

This poem was written by Ahmed Zaid in a 12-Month Poetry Collection Generator taught by Angel Nafis.

I hear our planet spins around itself
as it rotates around the sun that rotates
around the thing that also rotates around.

We keep arounding

around holes within our chests,
spiraling holes that suck attention.
Ache, an uninvited meteor

passing mid-conversations, vaporizing in quiet panic.

Our universes, vast, dark and suffocating,
stingy with awareness, can with donated looks
open cluster of clusters of young stars.