Matt Nagin
Intelligence Of The Gym
All those muscle junkies
lifting eternity
pushing weights into sky
reaching
against time
stretching out an indifferent universe
muscle-seeking
lust-hunting
brandishing the illuminati smile;
they try so hard
each exertion
a stretching out of the fabric
of potential;
all together now
on treadmills and ellipticals
bench presses and inclines
together in that hot stank sweat
and the soft sauna light of doom;
together as Mr. Grim Reaper
opens his jaw
and the sailors enter the ship
as the mighty go down
but with pride
and nice biceps.
Hunter Among Shadows
I go out
and collect
the light
like a tiger
on the precipice.
I go out
and collect
the light
like a mute
in a
noisy call center.
Again I collect
the light
but this time
it’s like
a bandit
finding a path
through
a sea of angels.
Or later I collect
the light
like a cripple
raising himself up
into verandas of paradise.
And when there is
no light I collect
the darkness
as dawn splatters
across realms
of soaring potential.
