Two Poems

by Max Heinegg

Antlers

In the stag’s notching, 

nature blazes this  

gauntlet. For autumn 

lets brief lords wield  

love’s difficult symbols, 

that capsule the pulse,  

itch. Rubbed against trees, 

velvet candelabras 

damage cambium. 

a weight even victors yield 

to winter, when oaks absolve 

their leaves, & needful forest  

animals gather to appraise  

the true bone of skull,  

his hard flowers fallen,  

crown now aliment. 

Troy’s Bucket 

Just like The Goonies,  

it's assholes up here, kids  

in varsity jackets, convertibles,  

angling for sex and offering to lower  

a bucket to pull you from a wishing well.   

Really, there's no time to stay underground   

‘til you’re ready—romantic  

obstacles are deadlier, but more memorable,  

a failure you chose. Crawling out,  

while the loaded ship escapes, fortune’s any- 

one who splits the purse when you’re all pockets.  

Trust me, it's fine to be frightened  

the whole way, kissing eyes-closed. Just  

stick to the map, the one from your family’s attic  

with a legend attached. 

You have as good a chance as we did,  

before we took the rope.