HOUSEWARMING

Chicken bones scattered in the backyard. I spray Windex 

on the kitchen window. The dog stands 

by the back door. She pants. I attach her leash 

and we walk outside. The Gateway Arch, blurry 

in the distance. It withstands gusts 

of rusted wind; the cawing of crows perched 

on the church steeple across the street; the burning 

breath of refinery fire incinerating my hair.

My first night here has been a feast of curiosities: 

the coming and going of animals and light; 

the sonorous collisions of wind chimes 

next door; conversations among brick and sky.

Joey Nicoletti is the author of two full-length poetry collections and three chapbooks, most recently Reverse Graffiti (Bordighera, 2015). He teaches at SUNY Buffalo State.