Poetry By Michael Randolph Martin

David Antis CC




Narrow Path to Providence 


That winter, she says, I was just a young girl. A sudden 
blizzard froze the watermelon vine, The Dead One 
had planted outside my window with seedlings bought 
from the Lakeview Garden Center. That’s when it started—​
I began dreaming watermelon dreams under 
a watermelon window. I heard only watermelon 
music and only ate watermelon. I grew into 
a watermelon woman. I made a watermelon radio and 
every night I aimed its watermelon antenna 
Way Out There past my watermelon wall. I picked-up 
radio signals without having to fiddle with a watermelon 
dial. Frequencies from unnamed moons. Vibrations of spiral 
galaxies and the eighty-eighth constellation. Wave 
after wave, coming in loud and clear from the Great Distances — 
the cusp of Andromeda, a palm of seeds.

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Michael Randolph Martin is a poet, editor and filmmaker. He is the author of Extended Remarks (Portals Press, 2015), a recipient of a Magma Judge’s Prize, a finalist for RHINO’s Founder’s Prize and runner-up for Poetry International’s Cavafy Prize. New poems can be found in Ploughshares, Epoch, RHINO and The London Magazine, among others. He edited the anthology, Rules of the Game: The Best Sports Writing from Harper's Magazine (Franklin Square Press, 2010). His award winning poetry films have been screened in international festivals, including Buenos Aires International Film Festival and North Film Festival.


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