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Matt Hart

SOME FLOWERS

            —for Melanie

 

 

I think I don’t know much

about what you think,

but sometimes I wonder

if you think I’m thinking

anything at all, or if

you imagine I only imagine

words in such and so an order

to make the sky fall

all black and wonderful

into the mailbox

and when you open it

a hawk flies out

on the tip of your tongue

And well, that’s all fine

and good, but this house

isn’t really coming apart

at the seams      I’m sorry

I said that     It seems

I just get busy,

and my mind hurts

from loneliness

one minute to the next

or distraction habitually

I’m drinking too much

probably     The lights

should go out, but not

before I tell you

if I had to choose

between you

and the dictionary

I would choose you,

but I would try to

keep you both

I love you

is the only thing

I’m saying

 

 

ALL BLOWN UP

 

 

The crying rolls over

I am covered in wonder

Exactly in boats as they fall

off the water     What is

a number     The kitchen, the bed

room, the phonebook rolls over

The memories simmer

like a car up on blocks

I need to change the litter box,

the cat as old today as the last one

when she died     Spent hours

and hours on a sentence

for nothing     Gravelly

to gravity, some rap outside

thudding     I’m benignly

swaying and hoping

you’ll stay with me     I’m hoping

you’ll stay with me

like a cloud up on blocks

We are bewildered or a beachhead

at first     A tooth comes loose,

and it anchors the crying

Then the boats rewind

to the water, and they’re

fine      They’re fine

with the drugs, but the drugs

are wearing off     I take

a lot more than I usually need

The phonebooks simmer

It’s something I remember

Tonight so much harder

than it ever really should be

Kiss and Motley Crüe on tour

this summer     Kiss and Motley Crüe

on tour without me     The boats

fall off     The crying

falls over     The looks that kill

are yours for sure     Razor sharp

Covered in thunder     Tooth

comes loose when the drugs

wear off     You’ve got the looks,

but when it all goes down,

kickstart my heart with a boat

up on blocks     I will be a speaker

in a deep southern state

Shiny new amplifier, shout

at the devil     You wanted

the best, and you got the best,

the hottest band in the world

 

 

RISE TIME

 

 

To drink right now with someone

My boots are on, I am ready to drown

I am ready to think about the problem

of love     I always find myself in

 

a book or in a bind      My friend writes to tell me

he’s alive and that’s the best news I ever get

Like him, I am in a big fucking hurry

not to die and maybe sometimes so much so

 

the deathtrap backfires, and all I can

think about are the last lines of poems     Last

minutes     Last breaths     Last wishes     Last week

I wanted more of everything and all of you, which is

 

both singular and plural, comprehensive and long

You need to understand that at the moment

these are the stretchiest of the feelings I have

to offer my apologies     I worry about watching

 

all the girls against the wall     I think I am

looking at their texts and their texting

None of them have any idea, but I only say that

knowing theirs are better than my own     Yes,

 

truly, the little purple flowers are blooming,

and if you’re falling from an airplane, you might

consider pretending that you’re someone else

entirely—the bartender calling, for example,

Last call

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