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Come On All You Ghosts

by Matthew Zapruder



If you know
the story of Marco Polo
you know after a long journey he came

upon the Mongol armies sleeping
and wisely turned back
already composing

a much more fabulous story
than not being able
to report being torn

apart by four horses
attached to his limbs.
From then on wherever

he went or did not he brought back
wondrous marvels and lies.
In this poem

every word means exactly
what it means
when we use it in every day life.

So when I say I went
to the grocery store
and felt too ashamed

to ask where are the eggs
only a very small part of me means
I have returned to report

we have by our mothers
been permanently destroyed.
When the president

opens his hands
a door knob
made of an unnaturally

heavy substance
floats up to the blue
door to the worry factory.

Open it and down
drift all the 21st century
problems, stick out

your tongue and maybe
you will taste sunlight
and maybe ash.

Go little president!
We are all blowing
into your wings!

We promise to no longer
be transactional
in our personal dealings!

We promise no longer
to know some things
are important but one

does not need to know why.
If the heart makes
the sound of two violins

sleeping in a baby carriage,
then new technologies
cannot make us

both more loyal and free.
Wayward free radical dreams,
I want to be loyal,

I say it once into the darkness.
Come on all you ghosts,
try to make me forget you.

Posted in: Poems

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