Four Poems by Matt Dennison

Slit Mouth Party

Until you weep across the threshold
of your childhood house and promise
to visit all the graves for the first time
next time, you still have not been home.

 

 

Aisle of Vases

Bored man in the antique store
shuffling behind wife stumbles
upon the aisle of vases.
Drawn by the pale, fluted lips
of one, he handles it, runs
a finger deep inside, thinks:
‘I believe I could use this…’

 

 

Her Street

The white dog lying
large across the green
door’s step, gentle
with patient concern
for his absent master,
will not come when
I beckon from across
the street, though he will
rise to walk and follow,
for a distance,
the yellow
dog down hers.

 

 

Peacock

So gradually since
the females found
the chromatic males
more desirable and were
disposed to life tail only
to these complementary
cobalt genetic wonders,
soon most then all males
were cobalt-blue.

But why would the females
in the florid first place
give a primary fuck
about the hue of their
elementary orifice
stimulators?

What pitchblueindigo
watercolourgodgonemad
aroused these prismatic
puritans?

 

After a rather extended and varied second childhood in New Orleans, Matt Dennison’s work has appeared in Rattle, Bayou Magazine, Redivider, Natural Bridge, The Spoon River Poetry Review and Cider Press Review, among others. He has also made videos with poetry videographers Michael Dickes, Swoon, and
Marie Craven.

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