Patrick Kindig

corona, n.

A small circle or disc
of light. A halo, a ring
around the moon. As in:
the moon’s corona is shining
tonight, it has a corona
that shines. Like glass
or a bright fish, often
prismatic. As in: the moon’s
corona is in the creek tonight,
a silver ripple. The creek
is carrying the moon the way
a man might carry a king.

corona, n.

A crown-like appendage
on the inner side of some
flowers, such as the daffodil
and the daffodil’s close
relations. Royal lips
kissing the air, poised
to pollinate. More stamen
than petal: meet the plant’s
cock. Shaped like
a tube, a trumpet, a prolapsed
rectum. Its function is distinct.
Its function is unknown.

corona (lucis), n.

A chandelier suspended
from the roof of a church:
crown (of light), light
(of God). Darkness
is a sin. As in: where pleasure
is taken (from God), where
the eye (of God) fails. See
curiosity: the lust of the eye.
In a clean, well-lit place,
there is no need for wonder.

corona, n.

A solar halo, mock
sun. A sun throwing
its voice. Anthelion:
a bright spot opposite
the sun. A bright spot
where the sun is not. A
sun dog. A light in the sky
chasing its tail. Heel,
sun; stay, sun. Get in
your crate, sun, and
do as you are told.

corona (radiata), n.

A mass of fibers in the brain
spread radially from capsule
to cortex. Made of white matter,
well-sheathed. A transit system
prone to stroke, stuttering
processionals, funerals
in the brain. A kind of crown
beneath the crown: kill it
and kill the king.

corona, n.

A luminous appearance in the gas
surrounding a conductor, a sheen,
a shining in the night, the night
a cloud of air, the air a jar of lightning
unlidded, unleashed, discharged
like a patient who has completed
treatment, a soldier, a religious
office performed secretively and
with care, a gesture electric enough
to make the heart beat faster, not
strong enough to cause a spark.

Patrick Kindig teaches writing and American literature at Indiana University. He is the author of the chapbook all the catholic gods (Seven Kitchens Press, 2019) and the micro-chapbook Dry Spell (Porkbelly Press, 2016), and his poems have recently appeared in Copper Nickel, Washington Square Review, Shenandoah, Columbia Poetry Review, and other journals.