Adam Malinowski
Antique
Most days there’s just no use in getting up
breaking snowy banks crystal
forms on the edge of breath
shapes of money wood crutches
my Discover statement eating baby
coral in a field of automotive flowers
My neck aches falling asleep
in your breasts blankets
a plate of hot eggs and bacon
hash and rye
circulating at the edge of memory
I want to taste snow melting
in the lapels of your peacoat
the fangs of greenbacks hollow
-ed out inside crescent moons
Love sinking in the river
reassembled
& citronella lamps for block parties
A bird governing two, three, four
or more sexes governing spheres
of heartbreak
and the goose a big red hair
a momentary gain sitting on your
aching chest lashes tongues kisses
toys under little cloth afghans
sleeping crescent moons reel
-to-reel walk us thru the art
& winds of what has been.
Poems by Adam Malinowski have appeared in Poets Reading the News, Philosophical Idiot, and in Mirage #5/Period(ical) #6. They hold an MA in Creative Writing from Eastern Michigan University, live in Detroit, and facilitate a poetry workshop at Women’s Huron Valley Correctional Facility in Ypsilanti, Mich.
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