Today's poem is by Matt Hart

Radiant Reflection

And commences, some suddenly, some

finally, the musick       The retrograde resplendence

looking       The friends and firebrands       The dear deer

readers       Luminous yard       O       I go to the killing of everything

and do it myselfish       Do it hard       And there is nothing

in it to hide behind but lamplight, which is god,

if anything ever was, but I don't believe it ever was,

so I am blue in the lost nothing, and crushing

a gnat without ratiocination or other rhinoceros       So,

over the grass-stain-y hills of       The blood in this body

or your'n       My stomping grounds, they stomp me

Ohio, Indiana, Kentucky       Just roses noises

The delightful little voices we call to us in revery,

the depths beneath the surfaces of light and winged oranges,

citrus scratched out to mean things       At this juncture

unsurrealistically, I would like to say, Meander and wonder

and wrath       With a sheen on it, an air of something

here or there, pedigreed and vocable       Gray chair

in my living room, shiny metal legs       Gas for the fire

Plants I don't water       Dust       Well       To undress this self

in a feathery of jets is one wish       My people want to know

what's more is       And I can only shake at an angle       This one

or this one       Blue bird or Pterodactyl       Dancing in the kitchen

with pistachios and carrots, lemon coriander vinaigrette       I regret,

can't remember how to spell, or cast one, and I think this goes on

too long in a bewitchcraft of ragged insistence       That,

or, it's never long enough       Always between

Heaven and earth, life is       Beak halves, teeth, coils, claws

When you—if you are who you say you are think you areask

if you love, do you wince with marvel at the time it takes

to answer       Affirmative       Effulgence       The sweat

pouring off Doubly, my heart-cloud is dark at this sentence

Big mouth       Bigger moth       Something struggling to end it,

under hammer       It has come to my attention this intention

is less than       Glorious       Sorrowful mask       I invented

to invention       And wear it all my life

Copyright © 2015 Matt Hart All rights reserved
from Conduit
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission

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