Most are heavy.
I wake up in my mother’s blood clot
& forget how to swim.
Or I fry a caramelized calm.
Call it a saturated thing,
blot the heart out.
Some days I let the pot soak.
Or I watch the grease coagulate
then scrub till the skin chips.
One morning our sink clogged,
the kitchen flooded.
Two men snaked out a clump
of microscopic events. Like
missed phone calls & visits cut
short. One morning my voicemail
flooded. A voice said stroke
but I couldn’t remember how.
Matt Coonan is a poet, emcee & teacher from Long Island, New York. He holds an MFA in creative writing and literature from Stony Brook University and is a three-time SUNY Oneonta Grand Slam Champion. He is also the recipient of a 2017 Live Más Scholarship. His poems have appeared in The Southampton Review, Button Poetry, 35mm Magazine, Inklette, and more.