Hallozine 2022


<roadside demeanor>


cracked champagne crawl across
the garden (gorgeous) to a chapteric end
she was understood like a crowded house
stinking + warm	         loud + heavy
haunted cellarbound 

swallowing every wildflower at ankle height
her roadside demeanor carried a lascivious promise
of enrobed kings or favored secrets
fluffy lichen growing in patches
      just below her redeemed chin
mysteries // indeterminate eyes she
makes thunderbolts from age + experience
effortless skywonder glittering from 
pressureheat + youth

her liquid cage
appears as irony or a devil in a onesie (ugly drunk)
bony experts entice nerves w/ status updates +
the fennel stuffed beneath skin

sweet future hissing from a crack in the sofa
the base of her neck sings w/ strange tones
insisting on lip or whittled contact
bright suckling reveals vermillion treasure
buried by time + the great inexhaustible sea

damp against fingerpads but heavy at the cuff
she rises among seawillows to sway
lefthanded stars brightening the skyway
          


<new dress>

            
heavy cloak fringed to my outlandish cuff
my face like a denim leg
cradle my enthusiasm like a precious
baby locked in disorder
 		          booted
i learn lefthanded piano the way
the old gods intended
 		          beautiful
 		          eyeless
 		          nervously
                          alone
i wear leylines as shoelaces
each powerful contact the type of madness
only fingernails made of sugar would agree upon
short		  unchlorinated
i imagine twilight as screaming
natural urgency over candlelight like
perfect areola glinting past retinas
my beard burns the sides of my cheeks
a completed collection of jewelry
 		          (for lovers)
awaits pricetags + other human borings

place the jewels in my shorthairs +
galaxy it forward
shadows smoking in relief hours after
the illuminated arm of my sleeve
billowed high + away

          




Sara Matson (she/her) has poetry in Bone Bouquet, Impossible Task, Ghost City Press, and elsewhere. Sara’s full-length book of poetry <personal fashion> was published by swallow::tale press and her chapbook, electric grandma is available from Another New Calligraphy. Sara’s pop culture chapbook of DVD poems, Special Features, is forthcoming from Alien Buddha Press. She lives in Chicago where she Tweets as @skeletorwrites. More of Sara’s poetry can be found at neutralspaces.co/saramatson