Winter 2012


Poison in My Body’s Fat

Poison in my body’s fat
But where are all the people?
I doze all morning dreaming
of records I’ve listened to
a thousand times     The killdeer
swirl in the back-to-school skies
I look them up on a map,
switching off all intelligence
So instead of brainy neurons firing
up the room, Ohio feels today
the way it always does—Romantic
both coming and going,
which could be the end of all
things, but it’s not     I would
like to be running, but I am not
Hurt my hip and that’s not cool
Sitting and sweating
this attempt at an anthem
I should never drink again
for as long as I live, and
I should write the longest
monologue of my life
about what it’s like to be
both sick and in love with love
like everybody else
who means anything to me
They’ve got their hearts
out on paper, and they’re
waiting for a hammer,
but they’re already tender
and if anybody doesn’t like it
they can get with being
a better person pretty damn quick
or die fucking up with their head
in my pocket      The clouds
aren’t made of money,
and they aren’t made in the USA
either      They aren’t made at all
They form and girls like to look
at them, and I like to look at girls,
because it’s easier than looking
at clouds      their bra straps
shining out beyond their tanktops
Meanwhile the opportunity
presents itself to look
at something else, the shadow
of a rabbit breaking into my house,
one blade of grass so much longer
than the others      I finish a letter
I started three weeks ago and mail it
so as not to be lonely
I pick up my daughter from her first
day at kindergarten, and now I need
to ask her all about it, how it went
and what she did, which is why
this is finished even though it’s not
finished, even though it’s not
anything final

MATT HART

 

The player will show in this paragraph

by Matilda Gertrude Paulin