“My last act of the day is always prayer,
never writing—for fear that I might try to
accomplish something.”

he noted in notepad
scrawled between wrist hairs
scribbled on napkin
scrimmed across tortoise
shawed upon tusker
tapped into forehead
squeaked across window
twisted in sock-talk
pinched into bed sheet
dribbled with tartar
ribboned on melon
creased into coat sleeve
inked into suet
raked within tea sludge
licked into eyelids
scored upon firewall
pissed into sawdust
knifed into waxes
shouted down hallway
shouted at mirror
shouted at ceiling
shouted at hands
carved into mando
cut into thumbskin
ached into washboard
sliced into desktop
nailed into headboard
forked into sausage
threaded on entrails
dreamed into hot dust
engraved on carpet
chewed within dough ball
whittled on light bulb
curled into teapot
marked unto dawn.

After a rather extended and varied second childhood in New Orleans, Matt Dennison’s work has appeared in Rattle, Bayou Magazine, Redivider, Natural Bridge, 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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