- Fuck, I'm a Marble;
ersatz pinball protégé.Quarter-clinks cue mytraining session.Numbers accelerate,a flapper shot through meelicits gruntsfrom the teen striplingwhose mouth says honey,a Pythagorean combwhere bees fear.
I love to look out the plasticscratch, the acne-riddled boy'shoodie blanketing his fresh whiskers,one taut as a bee's stinger.It bests the alternative: to be siphonedback into the hive pharynx; mute matesI slam when not paddled correctly.
Euphemisms garnish our apiary:there's the one about buzzing off,the one about minding beeswax.I get stuck, you can see me:a thorax of swirling light; kid hammersthe machine until he can flip me again.Silent scoring; a smile as I suck the bruise. [End Page 183]
Matthew Schmidt is working on a PhD in English at the University of Southern Mississippi. His poems have been published or are forthcoming in 3:AM, Hobart, Poetry South, Territory, and elsewhere. He is an associate poetry editor at Fairy Tale Review.