Poem 228 ± January 18, 2016

Matthew Schnirman
Poem [Not one…]

[Not one angel arrives
in fever.]
In a dive


around SoMa, looking
like a homo among the drags

of chicken-bears and freaks

and tweekers, Julienlifts
his shirt.

He shows that shingles hurt,
explains how

he’s just broke enough
to paint,

then jokes

that he’s six T-cells away

from a really good day.

As if the body were wilds
that go on forever.

Matthew SchnirmanMatthew Schnirman received his MFA from the University of Arizona. His poems have appeared in Phantom Books, CutBank, Whiskey Island Magazine, Poetry Northwest, and other journals. He lives in Seattle where he was a 2015 Jack Straw Writer and a former fellow at the Richard Hugo House.

This poem appeared in the 2015 Jack Straw Writers Anthology.