Brian Glaser

2. America

Reading midmorning in a Neruda poem about a hope for
Endless discovery
I think the phrase impossible
Because I have long known that the sun
Will explode and decimate our planet.

Then it occurs to me—
Really for the first time—
That in less than a million years
Humans might discover a way
To survive outside the ambit
Of our red giant.

And this is a great comfort,
A rebirth.

Perhaps this poem
Will be carried off the planet
And be understood
In a future without end.

I wish to be remembered as a father too.

Poring over a jigsaw puzzle
In a cabin with my wife.
Sharing a meal with my mother.
Laughter at memories with a friend.

Nothing will bring back
The hour my father and I
Watched laborers at day’s end
Throwing stones to knock a stone
From a piling at Puerto Vallarta.

What a mystery is death,
The innocent thief,
And manhood
Its silent tear.


Brian Glaser is an assistant professor of English at Chapman University in Orange, California. He has also worked as a grant writer for Catholic Charities of the East Bay and a dramaturge for The Wooden Floor. His poetry has been recognized with Berkeley’s Eisner Prize and he’s been nominated for a Best of the Net award by Lascaux Review. He can be reached at