Poetry: Selections From M.P. Powers

twilight zone

she wasted so much of her life 

worrying 

about others 

all she ever did 

was worry 

that sickness poisoning 

her blood her nerves gobbling

her synapses snatching

even her tongue

in the end 


I don’t even know 

if my mother knew 

who I was her last two years 

confused ghostlike

a jellyfish floating into the backseats 

of neighbors' automobiles 

skulking through 

the house at 3 a.m. 

burying cherry tomatoes in the coffee grinds

folding in half photos of family members

who were now strangers

and hiding them under bags of celery

in the refrigerator 


my mother was an actress

in some terrifying twilight 

zone episode in the end

the only mercy being that she never 

knew it.




partner-in-crime


so many fiery car crashes 

in my 

head 

so much illiterate agony 


so much unreason 

whose edges words 

could 

only sharpen or further scramble


a tarnished blue 

blade 

that can never be true


know that 

it is 

here 

with me


held to my heart

even as I laugh or dance

or stand 

in the mirror 

trying to understand

asking 

why?

asking what I did? what didn’t I do?

am I truly 

so 

guilty?


this killing

thing 

that has no name no language

just 

a single

and silent and meaningless

scream 


know that 

it is 

with me.




talk talk


I don’t think we learn much 

when we talk.

we mostly just impart 

what we know 

and that has never had much 

appeal to me.

 

I prefer to listen or not listen 

at all and write 

what I can’t articulate vocally.

 

let other people 

jaw away, just not to me.

 

I have spent too 

many hours days lifetimes

trapped in cramped 

quarters by didactic gasbags 

with nothing 

to say and all the time to prove it.

 

they will always find you.

they’ll call and you’ll 

make the mistake of answering 

or they’ll 

turn up at your door or corner 

you in a bar 

and begin, 

opening the flapper valve

 

and letting it all out 

blasting bloviating 

swelling soaring 

juggling deftly the vowels 

 

while failing to perceive in their 

self-love 

the deadening of your features 

and lack of engagement 

so hell-bent they are 

on bending your ears and cramming 

them with hot air.

 

how the hell do I get out 

of this? you ask yourself.

I know, I’ll add nothing 

to the conversation but a few ‘uh-huhs’ 

and ‘right-rights’

and wait for a pause. 

 

but the pause invariably comes 

too late 

and by then you feel soiled.

 

to have had your time bludgeoned

like that is just murderous you say 

to yourself 

and vow to never let it 

happen again, but you know 

they are out there and will find you, 

these ground 

beetles starving for the last

of your guttering 

light.




the sea as healer


autumn in my little seaside 

town and torches sing 

in the harbour little flames 

of roseate 

brightening 

the waters the boats gliding by 


I follow the path 

through the palms and seagrape-eating 

iguanas I go 

down the dune stand barefoot 

on the moonlit edge 

of the sea I am a shadowy 

figure in a munch painting 

I am a heart with nautical rope 

and seaweed and sticky little barnacles

dragged

through it 


I am the cry of a seagull 

strangled 

by the winds I am 

all these things and many other 

clever metaphors


but with you in the dirt forever

I feel mostly 

like that giant amberjack 

I saw under 

the fisherman’s blade

earlier this evening 

mouth hideous, gaping

empty-eyed

blood and hacked-up hunks of pinkish 

flesh smeared all over that clean white 

cutting table 


euripides said the sea 

washes away all the ailments

of man and as I stand here barefoot

in the rising tide

I let the salt-brine and fingers 

of cool foam grope 

my ankles.




avoid a mass crowd


a little misanthropy is just honesty

and even healthy 

if it keeps you from being soiled

by the mob.


humanity is only good

on an individual 

basis and very often 

not even then. but humans are never 

worse than when 

they clot and coagulate,

growing large like a cancerous boil


filling ballparks theme 

parks arenas god houses community centers

wedding halls concert venues art 

galleries nightclubs bars outdoor

fairs street festivals, and so forth.


all that human glut 

gorging and guzzling and shitting and pissing

believing that in great numbers 

they are safe 

they are right 

they have arrived 

they are where life is really 

happening 


fun might even be happening too

(if it was packaged 

and sold

that way). 


but I wouldn't bet on it. 







M.P. Powers is a Floridian who lives in Berlin, Germany. He is the author of The Initiate (Anxiety Press, Fall, 2023) and Strange Instruments (Outcast Press, ’25). Recent publications include the Columbia Review, Stone Circle Review, miniMag, and others. His artwork & etc. can be found on Twitter and Instagram @mppowers1132

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