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"This Heart"
by David Smith
Her kisses open holes in the skin
large enough for us to climb in
lighting the torch next to this heart,
every bit of it in every bit of it.
Rotating her piston hips,
she is all bold colors
and appealing design,
the dye molecules of my retinas
vibrating at 700 trillion times per second,
so fast that I can see beyond the color yellow,
the small wire stretched within this heart
exploding like an open window in winter,
every bit of us in every bit of us.
We like to mess around with the neighborhood kids,
changing the dog's name while out for his afternoon walk.
"Aw what a cute puppy. Hey mister, what's his name?"
Often my answer is,
"His name? We call him King of the Jews."
Blank stares meeting a borrowed smile,
Christmas in July.
She never corrects me.
Never sets the kids straight.
Never tells them that the dog's
actual name is Reggie.
She lets this lie hang between us
like a cloud of cigarette smoke
at a bridal shower.
All of our history compressed
into these small moments.
This heart can vibrate fast enough
to levitate large stones.
This heart contains more energy
than is expressed in the known universe.
Cut this heart in half and both halves
will contain the entire heart.
Cut both of those halves in two again
and the resulting pieces
will contain the entire heart,
and so on and so forth.
This heart we share
wrapped in ermine and black leather,
stretched from eye to I,
pulsing with the quiet distemper
of 100 flowers bathing in the rain.
David Smith's latest book, co-authored with Scott Wannberg, is Rocket's Redglare: the Handsome Duke Deal and Kid Mingo Letters. He is also the author of Closer to Jesus. His next book, White Time, will include the entire collection of the Hotel Malaria galleries. In the 1980's, he was publisher and editor of Ouija Madness Press and Ouija Madness Magazine. He is now jazzed to partner with the immortal S.A. Griffin on the outstanding Rose of Sharon Press. The best bartender you will ever know, he can pour a Singapore Sling that will make your mother weep with joy.
by David Smith
Her kisses open holes in the skin
large enough for us to climb in
lighting the torch next to this heart,
every bit of it in every bit of it.
Rotating her piston hips,
she is all bold colors
and appealing design,
the dye molecules of my retinas
vibrating at 700 trillion times per second,
so fast that I can see beyond the color yellow,
the small wire stretched within this heart
exploding like an open window in winter,
every bit of us in every bit of us.
We like to mess around with the neighborhood kids,
changing the dog's name while out for his afternoon walk.
"Aw what a cute puppy. Hey mister, what's his name?"
Often my answer is,
"His name? We call him King of the Jews."
Blank stares meeting a borrowed smile,
Christmas in July.
She never corrects me.
Never sets the kids straight.
Never tells them that the dog's
actual name is Reggie.
She lets this lie hang between us
like a cloud of cigarette smoke
at a bridal shower.
All of our history compressed
into these small moments.
This heart can vibrate fast enough
to levitate large stones.
This heart contains more energy
than is expressed in the known universe.
Cut this heart in half and both halves
will contain the entire heart.
Cut both of those halves in two again
and the resulting pieces
will contain the entire heart,
and so on and so forth.
This heart we share
wrapped in ermine and black leather,
stretched from eye to I,
pulsing with the quiet distemper
of 100 flowers bathing in the rain.
David Smith's latest book, co-authored with Scott Wannberg, is Rocket's Redglare: the Handsome Duke Deal and Kid Mingo Letters. He is also the author of Closer to Jesus. His next book, White Time, will include the entire collection of the Hotel Malaria galleries. In the 1980's, he was publisher and editor of Ouija Madness Press and Ouija Madness Magazine. He is now jazzed to partner with the immortal S.A. Griffin on the outstanding Rose of Sharon Press. The best bartender you will ever know, he can pour a Singapore Sling that will make your mother weep with joy.
posted by Faulty Mindbomb at 10:14 AM
2 Comments:
David is an excellent poet. This poem is one of my favorites. I am glad that he showed up at Faulty Mindbomb!
to be able to walk the dog
side-by-side with a borrowed
joke inside a smile inside
these small moments of crawling
into an opening in the skin
that begins with her kiss - -
this is love.
an amazing poem (and the line about the dog's name is hysterical).
so good to read David here.
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