Nyla Matuk. Sumptuary Laws. Montréal, Québec: Vehicule Press, 2012.
1Moths feather your far gazebo
2like young sailors on first leave.
3You know something, and keep reminding me
4of my own needs. You see an audience
5of blooming heads and sugared bank notes,
6and act accordingly. The swallows see it at five o’clock,
7a Wolfman’s tragedy.
8They hang themselves upside down,
9handsome sienna prizes in the semaphore of bats.
10Swayed by a summer night, I swing out
11to your silk pocket square standing at attention,
12a bird about-face. You’re the dark dew on the green grass of home.
RPO poem Editors
Poem used with permission of the author.