Issue
#1

January
2009

a poem by Mathias Nelson

Easing Time By Taking It Away

I awake on top of covers,
still drunk, clothed,
lights on. My father
bursts through the door.
Time to get up,
he says, Come on
now. I crack my eyes,
red slits. He lingers,
walks out but leaves
the door open;
with the laughter of my nephews
streaming in, my eyes roll back.
Later, I see them practicing
with fishing poles in the backyard.
Can’t catch a trout in the grass,
I say, Don’t let them see you--
They’ll call you crazy!
My nephews laugh hard
and I feel something
similar to good,
lean against the fence
and look at weeds until
My father’s shadow consumes
the afternoon sun.
Don’t you think it’s time
to slow down, he says.
How’d those dandelions
get so tall, I ask.
Don’t change
the subject, he says
as we saunter
back to the house
languid, as if under the ocean.

© Mathias Nelson

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