Sponge my mind’s watery leak
With a three-quarter smile.
Breaking silence with a clock’s hiccup
Beat with tears that come from other places.
The perfume of a bound book
Sticks in the nostrils like a poor squatter.
For on a face like a skyscraper
The only real expression is a mask.
So shrug at different degrees of the sun
Because magic needs a witness to work
In a flood of discerning eyes:
But all these trees are fake.
And sing with a voice like wet bread
Transmuting an aria of muck.
Can it fill the hall of many holes
For the men who are like rivers?
At what point does the performer’s body end?
Like a land with more doors than rooms
Emptiness is a tally done too soon –
So saddle an innocent horse in this puddle.
Figaro…the man is a prop
From a script of foreign language
Buildings turn like a Möbius strip
As do the lines of a dry mind.
Michael T. Smith is an Assistant Professor of the Polytechnic Institute at Purdue, where he received his PhD in English in May, 2014. He teaches classes in the digital humanities, film, business writing, and cross-disciplinary technology courses. His work has been most recently published in Tau Poetry Journal, Taj Mahal Review, Asahi Poetry Journal, Renascence, SONUS, Kinema, and Bright Lights Film Journal. He has work forthcoming in Symbolism and Cinematic. He has most recently attend the 2015 CCCC convention in Tampa as well as the 2015 PCA/ACA conference in Arizona. He will attend the 2016 CCCC convention and 2016 NeMLA convention this year.