in the nostalgia of tequila a face in the mirror hung there corner of my eye or rather I thought I saw the glint of my eye like when you turn your head across the night then double take because you think you’ve seen a shooting star & in that moment the blur of light is gone & all you can find there are fixed stars blinking

JOHN HOPPENTHALER’s poetry has appeared in Ploughshares, Virginia Quarterly Review, McSweeney’s, Southern Review, Christian Science Monitor, Barrow Street, The Laurel Review, Copper Nickel, Blackbird, and Subtropics, and in many other publications. His essays, interviews, and essay/reviews appear in such journals as Arts & Letters, Southeast Review, Chelsea, Bellingham Review, Pleiades, The Greenwood Encyclopedia of American Poetry, North Carolina Literature, Cortland Review, and Kestrel, where he is served as Poetry Editor for eleven years. He currently edits A Poetry Congeries at Connotation Press: An Online Artifact. He is the author of two books of poetry, Lives of Water and Anticipate the Coming Reservoir, both from Carnegie Mellon University Press. A new collection, Domestic Garden, is forthcoming from Carnegie Mellon in 2015.