Isla Mujeres
The shoal we saw from the boat was fish; it parted as I dove through, and formed again overhead, each fish like a dancing molecule in a rock.
On the flight to Merida we came down through clouds that looked like brains or scrambled eggs, but they were only wisps and down we came.
I'd swim back up a chimney of fish and break, already squinting, back into bright air.
If love is curiosity,
I loved those fish.
Those nights I ate her, she didn't come so much as she would go.
Her cunt-lather tasted already of memory and fever-sped loss, as if I would dream again and again -- and I do -- of falling through her.
Sometimes I dream I'm her, she's me,
I'm on my back, she's eating and falling through me, and as I start to concentrate and come, my mind "wanders," as a teacher would say to chide one of our children, half of whose classmates come from "broken" homes, should one of our children stare too long out a window, imagining he could fly.
William Matthews
Other author posts
The Blue Nap
I slept like a stone, or like that vast stone-shaped building, the planetarium No dreams I can remember: the dark unbroken blue on which the stars will take their places, like bright sheep grazing the sparse sky The night I s...
No Return
I like divorce I love to composeletters of resignation; now and thenI send one in and leave in a lemon-hued Huff or a Snit with four on the floor Do you like the scent of a hollyhock To each his own
Drizzle
Baudelaire: The dead, the poor dead, have their bad hours But the dead have no watches, no grief and no hours At first not smoking took all my time: I did ita little by little and hour by hour
Well You Needn’t
Rather than hold his hands properly arched off the keys, like cats with their backs up, Monk, playing block chords, hit the keys with his fingertips well above his wrists, shoulders up, wrists down, scarce room for the pencil, ground freshly ...
