nathan martin Poems

iconoclastic, aortic valves..

toppling through stone nerves
seperate the steel brow, the cement tongue
...

stacked certificates of printed births,
ink stamped little feet on four by eight cards.

such near relatives returning anually to
...

a pink tupperware container in the cupboard,
filled with salt kept in its acrid epitaph.

kept like snow in the clouds sharp to
...

your face polaroid happy glowing not half so distant.

walking over to grab the shovel and rain filled
bucket near the gravel driveway.
...

under the bay bridge in astoria there is a brick
bar with a broken seal door gnarled, tangeled and scraped.

three bare knuckled hindges of iron and a circle with strange
...

big rain little booted buddha
hopping in a monsoon knapsack.

a mural pasture filled with green
...

hopscotch gray ash leper.

quicker to the tray with the
embers still burning.
...

burn the eyeglass for a remedy.

knowing now that the leaves
have killed before.
...

what comes next and who should i follow
now that the sky seems to be liquid
...