Sous Rature





                                        STAND UP, MOUNTAIN!

Matt Hart

                                        Stand up, mountain!  O mountain alive minus phlegm!
                                        O living molecule lashed to a particle!  Absent trucks.
                                        I’m a stander-upper.  Not even close to your particle tongue.
                                        We leave Ohio in a Sunshine Bread truck.  Hereafter merely
                                        sunshine.  Hereafter phlegm and summit.  Stand up, trucks!
                                        Sunshine particles lashed to a molecule!  Walk up this mountain,
                                        up its bright summit.  You too must be a stander-upper!  Not even
                                        close to a molecule tongue.  Marvel!  Uranium particle.
                                        Marvel!  Phlegm trucks lashed to a sunshine truck.  Marvel!
                                        Marvel!  Hear a mountain to its summit.  Not even close
                                        to a particle tongue.  Blindness?  Stand to it!  Circling to
                                        and tied up to it!  Not even close to a particle tongue!
                                        Stand up!  Stand up!  Stand up alive with mountains!  Stand up
                                        and burn with sunshine trucks!  Stand up alive!  O mountain,
                                        stand up!




                                                                                                                        ANNIHILATE OBLITERATE CONSUME


                                                                                                                        Then a storm cloud opens
                                                                                                                        spilling blood into the grass,
                                                                                                                        and all the animals gather round
                                                                                                                        the lawnmower, growling.
                                                                                                                        Now sadder than ever,
                                                                                                                        where they will sleep tonight
                                                                                                                        is a mystery, or a machine
                                                                                                                        of pink petals in the darkness
                                                                                                                        with only half a person driving,
                                                                                                                        and the other half shredding a gazelle
                                                                                                                        like a sailboat—canines and mileage
                                                                                                                        in one fell swoop, death in a garbage can,
                                                                                                                        laughter in the bushes.  Thus,
                                                                                                                        although one thing flows into the next
                                                                                                                        (and streams prove it daily into rivers into oceans),
                                                                                                                        there’s still no consensus on how to train
                                                                                                                        a parrot.  The Shriner on a tricycle
                                                                                                                        has one idea.  The Buddhist monk thinks
                                                                                                                        nothing else entirely.  Is a cat essentially
                                                                                                                        the same as a lighthouse?  Is Batman the same
                                                                                                                        in Mandarin Chinese?  Many people
                                                                                                                        search a lifetime for the answers to these
                                                                                                                        and other questions, only to find later
                                                                                                                        that their teachers were broken many years ago,
                                                                                                                        alongside their parents in the high school
                                                                                                                        gymnasium.  Of course, you may argue
                                                                                                                        that it’s the search that eventually
                                                                                                                        comes to mean the thing one’s searching
                                                                                                                        for, but this only begs the question:
                                                                                                                        are we matter with a mind or a spirit that persists?
                                                                                                                        Are we brilliant supernovas or too much TV?
                                                                                                                        Even when the brain is cut into chunks
                                                                                                                        or sliced like roast beef or pounded
                                                                                                                        into rubble, almost nobody sees it
                                                                                                                        for the alarmingly beautiful, though
                                                                                                                        perhaps unintelligible, organ music that it is.
                                                                                                                        Not even Houdini returned from the dead—
                                                                                                                        headless or otherwise—
                                                                                                                        though many have in fact returned
                                                                                                                        from Las Vegas, strobing and blinking
                                                                                                                        with all of its light, and some
                                                                                                                        have even convinced their friends
                                                                                                                        that it’s a great place to visit, despite
                                                                                                                        having lost all hope in forever,
                                                                                                                        not to mention the family dog
                                                                                                                        in a slot machine.