mattmiller @ February 12, 2008 # 6 Comments
The Bath of Wife
by matt miller
Gingerly, tenderly, I bathe her,
My wife.
She is the Bath of Wife.
I am careful not too rub her skin too hard, or else it will sheath off.
I am careful not to comb her hair too roughly, or it will pull out.
I am careful not to bend her joints too quickly, or […]
mattmiller @ September 12, 2007 # 10 Comments
Modern Haiku
by Matt Miller
Strolling through the French Market
In New Orleans,
The smell of rotting human flesh wafted up into my nostrils.
mattmiller @ June 12, 2007 # 2 Comments
Sunday Afternoon in a Southern Church
By Matt Miller
Sunday afternoon. A one-room church, wooden, old, partially dilapidated, but suitable. South Louisiana in the summertime. Unbearably hot. No air-conditioning. Humid heat hangs over everyone and engulfs them like a noxious cloud. Flies […]
Editor @ May 25, 2007 # 2 Comments
I’m Hanging Out With Insects
By Matt Miller
I’m hanging out with insects
They are all spindly and crackly
Joints and shells and pincers and feelers and antennae
Creeping and marching and charging and territorial
Their eyes have a thousand eyes
And they only stare at me
Seeing me a thousand times
Seeing me like I cannot see myself
Seeing between the borders of their […]
mattmiller @ May 3, 2007 # No Comment Yet
Vampire Confessional
By Matt Miller
Darkness. Damp coolness. I am barely conscious. I cannot move. My will is not my own. My body melts into the soil around me. It is the edge of the face of the Duchess, as her pink shame blends and smoothes itself into the pale green landscape beyond. There is little difference […]
mattmiller @ March 25, 2007 # One Comment
Standard Literary Agent Response
by Matt Miller
Dear Author,
Please forgive the informality of this stamped card, but we are going to send it anyway. You see, we expect you to address us by name and to write an individually-tailored letter, but we are so important that we just stamp our reply on a card and mass mail […]
Editor @ February 27, 2007 # No Comment Yet
Thursday Night Fun
“Will you?”
“Yes.”
She will not.
It calls into question the purpose of existance.
“Will you?”
“Yes.”
These were the only words,
That anyone ever heard Jack the Ripper say.
“Will you?”
“Yes.”
“Not tonight.”
And my temple is burned.
“Will you?”
“Yes.”
After Jack the Ripper’s first kill,
A witness reported seeing a strange man,
Talking to a prostitute.
As the witness passed,
The man asked, “Will you?”
The prostitute answered, […]