Sous Rature





Every time this man says
In a puff of smoke the carcass
Of a rodent appears in his outstretched hands
Poof, there it is!
I look, of course, from a safe distance
At his magic or majesty or
His way of just saying
“I’m trying to make money, but this is all I end up with”
In this carnival
On this city sidewalk
A trail of dead things to step over
Or skip over, or even better yet,
Grand jeté, a ballerina jump, over!
Oh well. Here look
A pile of soiled clothes
Locates where a man disappeared
And never again reappeared
Funny right?
The lunacy of it all is quite daunting
To answer for, or with, as if we are all
Harboring traveling flee circuses
And then
Under the light post
The most ominous phenomenon
It does so much
Shakes me even
A payphone rings implacably
Again and again
Over and over
Who the hell is calling
At this hour?


Things by other names

That box with four legs
Sure is fun to go to the movies with

The nothings-in-particular
When someone like a chainsaw’s shiver
Leans over and says “grotesque”
I don’t really mind

This movie feels like an AA meeting
Yet I wanted it to feel like church
Tonight I wanted to go pray or at least
Fall asleep


Mako Matsuda