« prev | 2 of 2 poems by Marc McKee

Recharger

  1. You are even where you aren’t: viral
  2. benevolence, cataclysm
  3. in well-made shoes forging tap scars
  4. on the Real’s deep carpet—I
  5. open a book and it becomes
  6. the doffed glisten of a top hat,
  7. becomes a rabbitoid fury
  8. startling patrons from preposterous drinks.
  9. Look around—What fallible machines
  10. we pilot through furious swerves
  11. and soft clearings as the clock clips
  12. wing after wing. We are bound
  13. by failure, by tarnished lockets
  14. and torn photographs—
  15. On our trek through this tunnel
  16. overgrown with spoons
  17. licked into blunt spears, the intercessions
  18. of various music are stars
  19. breathing luminously across strings of river.
  20. Energy stays put
  21. and colossally doesn’t.
  22. You get to work on time.
  23. Time can be anything.
  24. Anything starts to matter.
  25. The first step is such a wound
  26. but there you variously are.
  27. Even the iceberg looks like you
  28. coming down from the stage
  29. to gently embrace us.
  30. Sequoias bolt from our hearts.
  31. Silk roses flicker from our palms
  32. where before there were none.
About the Author

Marc McKee received his MFA from the University of Houston and is currently pursuing a PhD at the University of Missouri in Columbia, where he lives with his wife, Camellia Cosgray. Recent work appears in Boston Review, Conduit, and Low Rent, and is forthcoming from Handsome and Barn Owl Review. His chapbook, What Apocalypse?, won the 2008 NMP/Diagram Chapbook Contest, and his full-length collection, Fuse, is forthcoming in 2011 from Black Lawrence Press.