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Two Poems
by Matthew Savoca

every moment is a unique snowflake

i know i have to clean the dishes

i am sitting in a room

there is tiramisu in the refrigerator

i am thinking about it

i am thinking about the food and dirt on the dishware in the sink

some of it is from the tiramisu that i ate this morning

and some of it is from the stir fry that i had at lunch

i have wanted to drink either coffee or wine for the past couple of hours

but could not decide which

so i am drinking nothing

and i feel better i think than if i had been drinking one of those two beverages

but it's hard to know

because each moment is unique

and valuable

like a snowflake falling to earth

from heaven

i am confused about anger but i know what this feels like and i will use numbers to describe that knowledge

i am extremely weak

i do not like any of my novels

i think, "i am going to the continent of asia

as soon as i get out of bed"

then i think, "asia," "the silk road," and "marco polo"

then i think vaguely about being a child and then specifically i think, "a 4 foot deep swimming pool" and "late 20th century child" and "upper-middle class" and "suburban american"

i roll over

i think, "sperm can live 3 seconds longer in water, so be careful if you are swimming in a pool with a male human over the age of 12"

i think about getting up

then i think, "genghis khan, kublai khan" and

"a very large man who eats beetle wings as a snack in the afternoon between pillagings"

then i think, "pillagings is not a word" and "cautionary advice is my forte"

also, "the mongols built swimming pools because they needed something to do"

"they had to pass the time just like everybody else"

i stare at the ceiling

About the author:
matthew savoca does not hate the world or the people in it, he just doesn't like to be around them very often. he is slowly becoming a semi-isolated sustenence farmer. he likes to drink wine and eat tiramisu in his underwear. thank you. goodnight.

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Midnight Picnic
a novel by
Nick Antosca


The Suburban Swindle

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