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3 Poems || Britt Melewski


The Day I Fell In Love With Kandinsky
 
 
I meant to say Cézanne and
Definitely definitely not
Chagall.
 
     The cats are trapped
Inside the little baby
Apartment because I’ve lost time,
Lost the keys.
 
     They starve.
Still life with Quaaludes,
Or apples, or breasts, I don’t know
Which—It was the blank canvas
 
That shifted my heart: perfection
left alone. Bare unendingness.
Pure life, or a dull stone.
 
 
_____________________
The First Boy
 
 
One boy said to another,
“I bet you five dollars
I can move those mountains.”
 
Far off, near the peak,
what was left of the glacier
marked the dawn sky different.
 
“I bet you ten dollars you can’t,”
answered the other.
The first boy began to sing.
 
 
____________________
Better Than Not
—after Wolfgang Laib
 
 
The yellow spray of a decade
of pollen. The essence visits us
for only a moment, vanishes.
Put it in a jar or a tin or else.
 
Watching the world
from a fourth floor balcony.
How it seems so slow in the silence
and distance. The illusion
 
of a year gone by. People
can’t count to ten in the realm
of the spirit. At my best
I can stack an oblong block
 
on top of another and have it
fit jointly past an eye blink,
only pray I can hold onto One
in E minor for more than a second.
 
____________________
Britt Melewski grew up in New Jersey and Puerto Rico. His poems have appeared in Puerto Del Sol, Off the Coast, the DMQ Review and others. Melewski is an editor of Hypothetical, an online journal. He lives in Brooklyn.