Matthew DeMarco

you put a light in there to fix it, you see, and then it all just happens to come together,     right


what if water hadn’t wet
you never think like I don’t know
this isn’t all of it, obviously, other words
2a.m. can’t stop the hollow din of any way up
cast glow over oozing bathroom sink scum ring faucet
you never holler never dim never 2a.m. strum in water show




                                                               h                                                      er








“shut your fucking mouth”




Into the utterances of seeming German-time feeling guilty. Blood stolen blood spilt in the fabricated latchkey and truncated nether heather.
an interrogative like
what the what where
dresses made of leaves
and all of these birds
stitched into the ridges
of a ’95 Dodge Camry
owned by a grandfatherless
clock destined for Puget
sounds found long in the oak
stark white brilliance and
here goes an uninterrupted thought
what about not murdering somebody for just trying to get away from you?
even that loses its time
to the withered shins lined up
toward ember dodge and plastic
bodega rearing cockatiel spandrels
in motion toward a train bound
to a master he doesn’t love
and who doesn’t love him
not a bit, bub
but what about it 27
mostly numbered by what
I ate for lunch but
I don’t think in terms
of meals these days
and pretty much anywhere
I go I’d prefer to travel
by intercity bus, you dig?
You sliver into a column granite-wide and lonely from its grayscale before wondering what exactly I mean by you, and here I mean you, and I don’t want to take you away but just talk awhile boneheaded in amber twilight book-sky missing the point brought daring and devilish into the parlor to rest on phonograph missing the hand crank whose cubbyhole has in it only one sea foam green dinosaur sponge named Henry, about five inches tall, two inches wide, and flat—a half-inch deep.


Matthew DeMarco is a writer, editor, and educator living in Chicago. He is a recipient of the Eileen Lannan Poetry Prize, for which his work has appeared on His poems can also be found in Opossum and Columbia Poetry Review. Drop him a line at