DAVID MATSON

The following is a short selection from the piece originally published on pages 80 - 96 of Issue 27.2.

 

 

TWO POEMS

by

David Matson

 

Eden

I

I am too much for one vessel,

I saturate the whole garden in my sweetness.

The blade of grass sings it better than your tongue

The movement of a snail is enough.

The fruit would explode if the tree did not dissipate its heat into the earth

And even there

Each coiled worm seals the secret.

I made you mute, and receptive to the awe.

Your eye is your flower, your body the stem.

Turn your face to the sun

And you feel it warmly shudder in your loins.

Your ribs barely contain the pulse.

And I have sealed the holes in the bottoms of your feet

And closed the hidden stoma of your palms

Lest the life sap pour out, sticky and golden

And leave you dry as twigs on the ground.

Such my Mercy.

Count your blessing once

It will take forever

But seek two, and you are torn, forsaken.

See, every plant and tree opens her ripe womb to you

And all that you need you may put in your mouth.

But the one tree which bifurcates

Whose dual trunk forms a notch

This tree you must not touch.

Serpents hang from its limbs

Drawing them willow-like down.

Its shade is dark as an open gullet.

Its bolus I suspend in a void.

Yet its root reaches the ice.

Touch it, and you will die.

 

 

II

You will not die.

Come into the shade with me.

How the sun has browned you–a shame

A little sky should show in your skin

The blue of blood and water beneath.

Your hip should round like a pearl

But see–you are luminous in the shade.

Come sit, and place your legs so

So sits a lady on the grass, in the shade

It is not the sun’s business to see

All that you may know.

Senses cultivate delicately

Delicacies don’t grow on trees, you see

These many fruits you may eat, but your own

is single, you must preserve it constantly

Keep its skin polished taut

Its little stem firmly set

I will teach you.

Even your bones have succulence, yes–

See–all beautiful things–branch

And even you hide a snake in the notch

Yes you–you cup your own sweet shadow.

See the mystery quickens, swift as yeast in a bowl.

Which way did it find into you?

I imagine it must have ascended–

then when will it reach your eyes?

When will your eyes know?

Just touch the tip of this tongue

It is not poison

Yes, now you see, we know, you see, but hush

Let your silence speak

See–your silence knows the Word

Your silence shames kings yet unborn

Just let your lips part slightly

Your breath exit

Soft, no speech

Yes–I will teach you.