poem index

poet

Matt Hart

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Matt Hart is the author of Debacle Debacle (H_NGM_N Books, 2013), Sermons and Lectures Both Blank and Relentless (Typecast Publishing, 2012), and Light-Headed (BlazeVOX, 2011), among others. He teaches at the Art Academy of Cincinnati and lives in Cincinnati.

by this poet

poem

Today a rainstorm caught me
and I still have not recovered
myself with drier blankets
The brown leaves blowing
off the trees, squirrels
and robins cheering them on, but not

cheering me     And anxiousness has an owl
by the throat, has me pill-popped up
to Heaven
poem
It's true that two hummingbirds singing
in exactly the same pitch
can shatter the blackest of mountains.
But it's also true that the missiles
in those mountains can shatter
a hummingbird to pieces of hummingbird.
The end. But this curled mess of black
yarn, this series of concrete barrier
entanglements, means
2
poem
I had a girl, I named her soap.
I had a soap, I named her cat.
One day I played the accordion on paper,
and it sounded like a birth certificate
drifting into the sun, a disintegration station
in a vast bewildered wilderness—
which sounds like a slide whistle at first
but later like the back porch flytrap I named
2