Thursday, July 25, 2013

Tom Hatch- Three Poems

Sunrise 

You are welcome in my house
At the top of the stairs
Leaving gifts of burning silhouettes 
And shadows that will fade
Reflecting off the neighbors 
Window teaching fiery colors
On the hot side analogous in yellows
oranges lighting up the shade 
On the dining room wall
If this were fall in many 
Rows of golden corn stalks
But this is cold early spring 
That you have warmed
The frost away
And my heart for a few 
More minutes then 
My sun you have become day
As chatted on the train platform
We gossip about your accent 
Becoming RA at midday 
Balanced on god's head
That balance lost as
Fading to a tumble into nights shadows
Gathering up your rays


What a Lucky Day

A lucky day to sit by
The window singing
The far never reaching one point perspective 
With yellow aired
Thunderstorms
The rain running mud
Down the bank to the train track
Passing 
A lonely blue plastic bucket
Getting less lonely filling
With water soon to reflect
A clear sky 
The yellow sun thinking
We are so lucky we do
Not have to fight the
Stars, the moon
And the sun that would be a tall order


The Beat of the Mimeograph Machine

This was huge and smelled of denatured
Alcohol there was a two foot high
Box to stand on to operate
This machine she would do the
Hully gully and Watusi 
Like a go, go girl
To the beat of the turning
Drum producing
Pages with letters of
Blue ink also smudged on 
Her hands and fingers
Waving them while her dipping knees gyrated

I loved it when she
Said come let's go make some
Copies in mimeo
Room we let the drum turn
Our hearts in the
University art department
Intoxicated on denatured alcohol 
We would always lock 
The door until the drum
Stopped beating 
Leaving with a stack that was
Tomorrow's syllabus

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