Matthew DeMarco
Earth and Smoke as Glass
i.
why the sad length?
before bricks
adobe smoldered
into mold
sturdy like a home
basement foundation
tear stone blocks out from under your skull
ii.
Our little brown bird was a
smoke. True, she wasn’t ours.
She rose up on our pillow
when her wife appeared,
bright and charming earth framed in
the sparkly glass. The wife’s beak
tore and pecked through wire mesh,
her eyes sharp and darty.
The little grackle hurried to her
wife. They went then, smoke and
earth. Grackie smiled brightly.
Her round-rimmed glasses
glinting in the pinkly lit night.
iii.
years click by
the strobe effect
our stadium flicks
its heels
the grass grain
lights mallow
in bloom
bulging marrow
fig dance &
leaves, delicate rings
clang out their best material for a hospital bed with a view
cultivate closeness
grow
like a germ
the glass jar
resting in repose
why the sad length?
before bricks
adobe smoldered
into mold
sturdy like a home
basement foundation
tear stone blocks out from under your skull
ii.
Our little brown bird was a
smoke. True, she wasn’t ours.
She rose up on our pillow
when her wife appeared,
bright and charming earth framed in
the sparkly glass. The wife’s beak
tore and pecked through wire mesh,
her eyes sharp and darty.
The little grackle hurried to her
wife. They went then, smoke and
earth. Grackie smiled brightly.
Her round-rimmed glasses
glinting in the pinkly lit night.
iii.
years click by
the strobe effect
our stadium flicks
its heels
the grass grain
lights mallow
in bloom
bulging marrow
fig dance &
leaves, delicate rings
clang out their best material for a hospital bed with a view
cultivate closeness
grow
like a germ
the glass jar
resting in repose