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About this poet

Matthew Siegel is the author of Blood Work (University of Wisconsin Press, 2015), winner of the Felix Pollak Prize in Poetry from the University of Wisconsin-Madison. He teaches at the San Francisco Conservatory of Music and lives in San Francisco, California.

[My pills doze until I wake them]

My pills doze until I wake them
on the shelf

behind the bathroom mirror,
the one I see myself in

curled over, whimpering,
eyes dark and heavy

like lakes at night.
My pills doze until I shake them

and they dissolve inside me,
make complicated arrangements

with my biology.
They sleep and I take them,

gathered in the cup of my hand.
They tick against my teeth

and I hold my hand over my mouth
as if to shut them up.

 

 

Copyright © 2015 by Matthew Siegel. Used with permission of the author. “[My pills doze until I wake them]” originally appeared in Blood Work (University of Wisconsin Press, 2015).

Copyright © 2015 by Matthew Siegel. Used with permission of the author. “[My pills doze until I wake them]” originally appeared in Blood Work (University of Wisconsin Press, 2015).

Matthew Siegel

Matthew Siegel

Matthew Siegel is the author of Blood Work (University of Wisconsin Press, 2015), winner of the Felix Pollak Prize in Poetry from the University of Wisconsin-Madison. He teaches at the San Francisco Conservatory of Music and lives in San Francisco, California.

by this poet

poem

I had sworn I wouldn’t write
another poem about my mom
but in the museum there is a room
filled with centuries-old pottery sherds
and it is difficult not to start seeing
symbols everywhere. We walk through
the frigid air toward a reconstructed
temple, likely stolen, I say

2
poem

Sometimes I don’t know if I’m having a feeling
so I check my phone or squint at the window
with a serious look, like someone in a movie
or a mother thinking about how time passes.
Sometimes I’m not sure how to feel so I think
about a lot of things until I get an allergy attack.
I take

poem

And sometimes I know I am having a feeling
but I don't want to have a feeling so I close up
like a book or a jacket or a sack which holds
a body. Don't mind me, I'll just be dead in here,
you can drag me wherever you want, the body
seems to say. You laugh like a little silver moon.
You