Bio: Matthew Borczon is a writer and
nurse from Erie, Pa. He is the author of 15 books of poetry, his most recent
Saved Rounds will be out soon through Kung Fu Treachery Press. He works as a nurse
for developmentally disabled people and has been in the United States Navy
Reserve for 19 years. He publishes widely in the small press and is the father
of four children with his wife of 25 years.
Nothing
Nothing
is the
sound of
Hound Dog
Taylor's guitar
unplugged it's
Robert Johnson
before he
reached the
cross roads
it's what
the devil
lost in
that deal
and nothing
is what
I dream
of every
day since
Afghanistan
no thing
behind my
eyes at
night no
sound inside
my head
no cacophony
of whirring
suction pumps
no white
noise of
wound vacs
and no
chorus of
screaming ghosts
reminding me
nightly that
my best
was never
good enough
words
Dead
as
a
door
nail
dead
ringer
ring
your
neck
in
your
neck
of
the
woods
if
man
is
the
head
of
his
house
the
woman
is
the
neck
so
turn
turn
turn
of
the
screw
screw
your
courage
to
the
sticking
place
screw
you
and
the
horse
you
rode
in
on
if
wishes
were
horses
beggars
would
ride
this
leaving
train
straight
into
heaven
and
high
cotton
on
these
lonely
nights
with
nobody
to
drink
with
and
nothing
but
words
for
company.
Tough love
I'm trying
to love
the world
the way
a cowboy
loves his
sick horse
the kind
of love
that will
fill it
full of
laudanum
before you
shoot that
nag right
between
the eyes.
Wow such power in few words. The arrangement makes them all the more powerful. The first poem begins with the blues, then suddenly escalates into wartime death. The association brings out the trauma and horrors of the thing.
ReplyDeleteWhat a great set of poems my brother. It was nice to read these and understand the meaning behind them. Keep up the great work.
ReplyDeleteDustin says it well. The blues. The death. The trauma and its lingering aftereffect. The breath keeping on breathing.
ReplyDelete