Thursday, March 26, 2015

Matt Margo- Two Poems


bombshell vocations

at the nightclub dances
the prettiest matter
across a summit of storms

a modish windmill at the diehard café
taming waves and riding tight corners
in an underground room
on a wordless night still transient

like ghost hands over heavens
hammering out an age
of permanence or fence
sustained in isolation

let me push this trial and at once
kowtow to these arabian cascades
and sidewalk muses
for their large-scale wisdom
told after the heavy rains

against a backdrop
the monuments glisten
with light spring rain

the hands rise over a snowstorm
loftily living and blooming
safe from harm in a simplified city
rasping into a saw-like slip

of vintage wear and leisure time
cloaked in ameliorated cleanliness
they echo oral accounts of love said aloud
forbidding any unexpected fish farm frost

yapping about quick friendship
and the slow dark moon
vultures speak in heated murmurs
their lowly souls with salty patches
into slow synthetic synthesis

the old adage is nothing more
than a true hope shudder
bluish flags treading water

bliss is not fixed in passing canisters
of gin or the sap of the sin
that came to humanity
in punctured lines

chiming of different times
at a monday morning’s rally
the comedians and magicians
come together in search of footprints

as they move on
they recite their own songs
clacking and passing jars
to make ready
for the revolution of thorns


do-it-yourself make-a-wish foundation

to whom it may not concern:
it concerns me
and that is that
if your hand is as big as your face
it means that you have cancer
and if you ask me to marry you
then the answer is yes
yes i am an ugly human being
yes i do have a heart

Both poems published in Metazen November 2012



Matt Margo is the author of the poetry chapbook what i would say (Peanut Gallery Press, 2014) and the book-length poem When Empurpled: An Elegy (Pteron Press, 2013) as well as the editor of the online poetry magazine Zoomoozophone Review and the literary blog experiential-experimental-literature.

No comments:

Post a Comment