Men, squatting on their haunches,
talk around the fire
about politics, jobs, blow
jobs, fat cats, pet poodles, rain
v. rhubarb & such
as they sip the bitter day-
old coffee from tin
mugs. The men turn to the fire,
in deference to the supposed
wisdom of its age,
for advice. It says nothing
but they listen anyway,
knowing it too is dying.
Musical composition by Victor D. Sandiego
Matt Morris is a part-time instructor and full-time poet. After his first book, Nearing Narcoma, won the 2003 Main Street Rag Poetry Award (selected by Joy Harjo), Pudding House Press published his two chapbooks, Here's How and Greatest Hits.
His work has appeared in various magazines and anthologies, including DMQ, 88, Hunger Mountain, New York Quarterly, Runes and others. He has received five Pushcart nominations. Matt lives on the remains of a farm on the side of a hill in West Virginia.
● Go to bio page
|Also by this author|
|One Night||This piece appears in Issue 3|