She dreams of dreams—
O, my chinchilla, my arabesque,
my otherworldly worldly,
my bud blossom blossom bud,
O.
She is the window staring
back. Sometimes, she sees
constellations; the stars
don’t come out. Nor does she,
until coming home.
Instead, bacon grease flecks
her wrist. Her watch smudges.
No one hears her blink,
nor flinch.
I pinch her thoughts, making sure
she’s asleep. When I don’t, snow,
and she leaves herself
for science.
Matthew Byrne received his MFA from University of Montana in 1999. He has been published in some journals, and had a poem included in the anthology The Best American Poetry 2007. Matthew’s chapbook Silent Partner won the 2013 Sow’s Ear Poetry Chapbook contest. He currently resides in Naperville, IL, with his wife and 3 children, and works as an insurance consultant.
Categories: Poetry
Tags: e-zine, ezine, hyperbole, Laments, longing, Matthew Byrne, melancholy, melancholy hyperbole, new, poem, poet, poetry, poets, submit, writing
Melancholy Hyperbole 