Mark Mattson Poems

sunlight thick as fog

hot and lazy country days
crunching gravel under bike tires
...

How now Mao?
given your 15 of fame,
Entomed in an American museum
as a commodity hung on a wall,
...

It found itself embedded in wax
This catenary cord
This cotton string
...

I don’t know why I gather sticks
in hand held bundles bound in string.
Old fashion thick white string,
tied around a clutch of wood
...