Melancholy Hyperbole

Poetry about longing.

Tag Archive for ‘Matthew Byrne’

Window Shopping

Grinning, disheveled, leaning against yellowest willow, a cut on your shin, smell of dead leaves You step from cabs, bent knee birthed in streetlight You half-sleep in hammocks under ruddy overcast You should be by the willow, disheveled I can’t put dreams back where they find me   Matthew Byrne received his MFA from University of Montana in 1999. He has been published in some journals, and had a poem […]

Continue Reading →


1. She dreams of dreams— O, my chinchilla, my arabesque, my otherworldly worldly, my bud blossom blossom bud, O.   2. She is the window staring back.  Sometimes, she sees constellations; the stars don’t come out.  Nor does she, until coming home.   3. Instead, bacon grease flecks her wrist.  Her watch smudges. No one hears her blink, nor flinch.   4. I pinch her thoughts, making sure she’s asleep.  […]

Continue Reading →