Strange Fiction Poem by nathan martin

speak into my left ear where i hear lies
the best she said.

i watch her turn her head...

blood and water mix as she lowers her neck
down slowly on a slightly off colored white lunar
eclipse pillowcase.


a thin clear coated layer of second guessing,
keeps a little residue round my outer
earlobed religion.

i listen to her worries but prefer
to keep my eardrum aquaducts
from draining their lower case
verbs and adjectives onto the floor.

so i keep silent, my only escape is
to impregnate my head with robotic
consistencies and go and poke at
the fireplace.

now i place heavy latin numerals to mark
the spaces between us.

you tell me that their is a fire that burns
in you and that it once burned between
the ribs of adam....and that now it is mine.

so i stoke and fuel the fire with strange paper back
fiction novels i found at a garage sale.

the light and warmth it brings is
enough for now.