Matt Ullman

Rookie (9-22-1971 / Chicago)

The Air Poem by Matt Ullman


The air is oppressive here
Forcing itself down my gullet
Rushing down my throat

The air keeps me
Prisoner to the only world I know
It's a one-man show
Of prophets and promises
No one is released

The air can be stingy and cold
In your last drawn days
The air can be hot and sticky
Covering you like cloth

On a good day it leaves you
In a laugh
After a meal as gas
Or a cry when you're sad

Air shelters the words
As they leave your mind
And make their way out onto the street
Where any passerby
Can pick them up like a bill
And value as they're able

The air is crazy when weak
Stifling when strong
Listless and divine
The pressure of a thousand friends

The air is here so
Close your eyes and
Dream it out

Submitted: Monday, December 11, 2006
Edited: Wednesday, December 08, 2010

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