Portrait of a Jazz Musician
by Matthew Gleckman
Brown face creased,
Wadded like chewed
Tobacco with the juice
Sucked out,
Hook-nosed & eyelids sunk:
Pressed skin of
stained wood
Circling a hammered nail,
Thin mustache
bristling
Black on Brown on Brass:
Cracked lips kissing
The mouthpiece of a horn.
Copyright © Matthew Gleckman 2003
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Glass
by Matthew Gleckman
Heavy brown bird
trapped indoors
beats itself against
the windowpane
with a dark
rattling thud.
Always, it is what
you cannot see.
Copyright © Matthew Gleckman 2003
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Eyes
by Matthew Gleckman
In the twisted
half-light of morning
before the chaos
of alarm clock
& coffee pot,
your eyes pull away
from sleep,
blinking themselves alert
like the flash of puddles
after a storm
Copyright © Matthew Gleckman 2003
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Carving Pumpkins
by Matthew Gleckman
One evening late in October
we covered your kitchen floor
with old newspapers and sat
drinking wine with friends.
Carving pumpkins like cadavers
we loped off tops with steak knives
removing pulp, seeds and spleen.
When the guts had been pulled
and spread across the paper
you paused—slime covered—
long enough to laugh at
week-old funnies.
Sitting on the sagging
green couch across the room
I drank faster than usual,
out of nervousness,
until you shot me a smile
that slowed me down some
and made me wonder
which of my organs
you are after.
Copyright © Matthew Gleckman 2003
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Matthew Gleckman received a BA in English (writing) from Plymouth State College in New Hampshire, and has worked as a
journalist for numerous newspapers and magazines throughout the western United States.
Gleckman's poetry and short fiction have been published in magazines and anthologies including Telluride
Magazine (winner of Summer 2000 poetry contest) and Continuum, Multimedia Arts Magazine of the University of New
Hampshire (Plymouth). A poem is forthcoming in Dazzling Mica, a Journal of Poetry
and Culture. Matthew lives in Issaquah, WA.
Contact the author at: m_gleckman@hotmail.com
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