September 2016
John Muth
Comnenus2@yahoo.com
Comnenus2@yahoo.com
I was born and raised in central New Jersey. For the last fifteen years, I have been an academic advisor, working for Rutgers University. The main focus of my poetry is satire, particularly romantic relationships, modern values, and the inner workings of higher education. Some of my poems have appeared in The Stray Branch, Section 8 Magazine, and US 1 Worksheets. My first book, A Love for Lavender Dragons (Aldrich Press), was published earlier this year and can be found on Amazon.com.
I Left My Tongue in Lake Champlain
During a romantic summer cruise
on Lake Champlain
I tell my four-month girlfriend
she is probably the love of my life.
My tongue uproots
and falls out of my mouth
makes a slapping noise
as it lands on the boat deck
droops halfway over the edge
like a clock in Dali's The Persistence of Memory.
Looking up from her magazine
an article about finding
sexual satisfaction without a partner,
she pats my folded hands
tells me I'm sweet.
When I try to pick up my tongue
she flings it over the side
with her sandaled foot
goes back to her reading.
It plops into the water
sinks slowly down to the bottom.
I imagine it settling down in the muck
with the hulls of British warships
from the War of 1812
and the bones of Algonquin warriors
who never quite learned
how to build a good canoe.
Inevitable Carbon
Traditionalists say a diamond ring
should cost the future groom
three months' salary.
Traditionalists must not need
to pay rent or buy groceries.
You tell me it will be a symbol of our love:
shining and flawless
eternal and indestructible.
I think of a piece of super-heated carbon
chipped out of the earth
by a half-starved African slave child
inflated in value
shown as a status symbol
to people as shallow as ourselves.
Yes. It could be a symbol of our love.
I'm not quite sure if we are forever.
The statistics are against it.
May I suggest a garnet instead?
It may last us five years.
A fire opal could mean seven years of bliss.
Alexandrite is a very pretty stone.
In daylight, it is a gentle green.
In lamplight, it turns an angry red
much like your eyes right now
my beloved.
During a romantic summer cruise
on Lake Champlain
I tell my four-month girlfriend
she is probably the love of my life.
My tongue uproots
and falls out of my mouth
makes a slapping noise
as it lands on the boat deck
droops halfway over the edge
like a clock in Dali's The Persistence of Memory.
Looking up from her magazine
an article about finding
sexual satisfaction without a partner,
she pats my folded hands
tells me I'm sweet.
When I try to pick up my tongue
she flings it over the side
with her sandaled foot
goes back to her reading.
It plops into the water
sinks slowly down to the bottom.
I imagine it settling down in the muck
with the hulls of British warships
from the War of 1812
and the bones of Algonquin warriors
who never quite learned
how to build a good canoe.
Inevitable Carbon
Traditionalists say a diamond ring
should cost the future groom
three months' salary.
Traditionalists must not need
to pay rent or buy groceries.
You tell me it will be a symbol of our love:
shining and flawless
eternal and indestructible.
I think of a piece of super-heated carbon
chipped out of the earth
by a half-starved African slave child
inflated in value
shown as a status symbol
to people as shallow as ourselves.
Yes. It could be a symbol of our love.
I'm not quite sure if we are forever.
The statistics are against it.
May I suggest a garnet instead?
It may last us five years.
A fire opal could mean seven years of bliss.
Alexandrite is a very pretty stone.
In daylight, it is a gentle green.
In lamplight, it turns an angry red
much like your eyes right now
my beloved.
©2016 John Muth
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