Matthew Borczon is a poet from Erie, Pa
his most recent book Code 3 the prison Blues just came out from Alien
Buddha Press. He has written seven books of poetry and has published
widely in the small press. He is a nurse for developmentally disabled
adults and is a sailor in the Navy reserve.
A
flock
of
crows
follow
a
skinny
horse
across
Northern
Mississippi
as
satellites
search
the
moon
for
the
hollow
bones
of
Napoleon
and
x
ray
machines
kill
cancer
like
enemies
who
used
to
be
our
friends
it's
fall
but
the
days
feel
like
Indian
summer
if
that
is
still
an
allowable
thing
to
say
from
beneath
the
covers
and
a
blanket
of
stars
we
try
to
steer
north
as
the
world
goes
south
and
no
one
listens
as
long
as
they
get
their
tax
break
tariff
reduced
wall
built
hearts
and
minds
removed
by
thoughts
and
prayers
as
all
our
common
threads
are
strung
across
the
devils
violin
so
Nero
can
fiddle
while
everything
burns.
Rain
falls
like
hammers
hitting
the
anvil
rain
falls
over
everyone
who
walks
the
streets
runs
the
trails
sails
to
close
to
the
shore
it's
the
kind
or
rain
that
makes
you
want
to
build
an
ark
buy
a
wet
suit
grab
a
life
raft
it
fills
your
wind
shield
and
drowns
your
memories
it's
3
feet
high
and
rising
it's
angry
as
a boil
on
your
skin
it's
sad
like
your
grandma's
tomb
stone
it's
relentless
like
my
10
yr old
fighting
bed
time
it's
rhythmic
like
a
hand drum
or
heart beat
it's
seizure
medication
it's
jazz
impressionism
in
real
time
it's
form
that
follows
function
it's
grey
magic
it's
the
wax
and
dreams
that
made
the
wings
of
Icarus
work
until
he
flew
too
close
to
the
sun.
