8/2/2017 1 Comment Poetry by Tom SnarskyHowever Long You Need It was a summer of seeing sequels alone in big theaters. A summer of uncertain death. A summer of not telling any- one. I never saw it coming. I never even saw the first one. Untitled The moon hanging out of the side of your mouth is dangerous. Imagine a wrecked sapling, uprooted & dying. Imagine a dark cold space. You are mother to your own silence, its grim retreat as you turn your head & laugh at the after- glow. Listening has failed-- now only the blue remains. Tropism Some dream evidence has been gathered That two unattainable loves Are better than one Or maybe that's wrong & trees Will grow however darkly they are planted & however far apart they are in leaning Into the day They fracture the sky & leave me Wondering About dawn & its role The way the bees howl in & out Of sunlight-- The exact color of this sullen music Poem for Lol Stein Like one real small tooth In the mouth of a puppy Next to the other small Teeth—happiness is A ransom you can sit in & eat, forever, without Dying much. Although-- Boredom, winter, & cold All work as ways of selling Your air to the world, Modulated only by fear & the pressures to make The teeth align, corpuscular, All together in glorious rows. Ten Minutes Color After ten minutes I am pretty sure that almost all the color has drained from the body, which then becomes a monochromatic wilderness all its own, the love no longer moving in animal patterns across its surface, all the sanded areas smoothed out and re- ceding beneath the tide. I did not hurt you the time I thought I did. You almost saved me by telling me that. The body you are saving could be anyone's. The body you are earning is a deep, deep sleep. Have you ever wandered like a furious child into the space between rules, where the harvest is permanently cancelled and rhythm alone can be marshalled to save us? The body is humming and you have missed the point. Call it whatever you want. Call it "musical". Bio: Tom Snarsky teaches mathematics at Malden High School in Malden, Massachusetts, USA. His chapbook Number Among is forthcoming from Epigraph and his long poem Centurion is updated monthly at aglimpseof. He lives in Braintree, Massachusetts.
1 Comment
Sarah
8/2/2017 09:45:41 am
"You almost saved me by telling me that." That line will stay with me.
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