Eratio

Issue 22

 

 

 

Three Poems

 

Matina L. Stamatakis

 

 

 

 

Trompe-l’œil 1.1

 

 

I could be pigeon or prophet

 

       macula

               

         learn’d in its tender

 

 meat                 [yet no memory]

           meat in prayers and catastrophic

 deluge

          so the holy-holy pulsating in its thrall

 

palmed omnipotent

 

 

 

 

Trompe l’œil 1.5

 

 

pools dark into light

pools of shimmering teeth  ’gainst

        a red existence

sure  its unbuckling conviction to

       trick itself into mind

 

               unwavering fractal

 

choirs of birds lost in their own feathers

  O’ fragmented quarrelsome heads

       O’ critics of specters

               grave in their eelflesh

 

 

 

 

Trompe l’œil 2.0

 

 

          excruciating decoy of atonal pulse

I move you to another melody-lack of malignancy

 

       the palatable becomes less

                               palatable

 raws itself in the thick of the retina

    In memory of no memory

                              O’ squandered is the macular

 

impulse of shadows in my palm the dove is

                  angular and oblique

  with the moon  ) O’ mask I still find the contours slack

made of glass           less fluid

            it is not itself by appearances

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Poetry by Matina L. Stamatakis has appeared in YEW, Coconut, Milk, Shampoo, The Volta, Free Verse and in E·ratio #7 (this is her ten-year anniversary appearing in E·ratio!).  She currently resides in upstate New York. 

 

 


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