Matt Merendo
No Man an Island

A crash, shatter, and a new
archipelago forms
near the radiator.
Unleashed water
from the vase floods
the floor: a wet
incarnadine moving through
scarlet carpet fronds.
Raku-crusted islands,
individual topographies
now single, specific memories
of the vase's former scene,
settle against the dampened
seaweed bed as the red
waters recede. Close, two
yellow roses lie,
stems crossed, blooms
still burning
with the brightness of suns.

<< Back to Issue 8, 2005