Friday, July 5, 2013

A Poem by Tom Hatch


I live in a bottle
My religion is escapism 
The stopper removed scent unseen
Dabbed or sprayed on the likes of aphrodisiac's arms
Finding my way to a young man
He can see but is blind to this
Flirting without a skirt or low
Cut blouse of cleavage 
I flank around his neck
A river flowing unlike a water fall
Unlike a sigh heard then gone
Find his ear silent all to myself
Enter my fragrance dance 
He takes the bait a fish ready
To be netted still fighting an uncertain
Death howls tormented enigmas curse
Trapped entering Saks Fifth Ave
Or Bergdorf Goodman's damn front door
In the isle of paid lady's to release and tease 
Around and for thousands of years silent splash
Reaching resting into young jackals pores 
Tom Hatch paid his dues in the SoHo art scene way back when. He was awarded two NEA grants for sculpture back then. And taught at various colleges and universities in the NYC metro area in art (including Princeton and U of Penn. in Philly). He is a regular at The Camel Saloon and BoySlut. He had recently published at The Mind[less] Muse, Jellyfish Whispers, Napalm and Novocain and Dead Snakes among others. He lives in CT with a few farms up and down the road works in Manhattan. His train ride to and from NYC is his solace, study and den where it all begins and ends.

No comments:

Post a Comment