Two Poems by Matthew Rohrer

A Full Head

In the morning I check
the game was 78-0
the rain is undefeated
dragging slowly
down the streets
the way the trees
are wagging in it
they must be so happy
like dancers in a club
with their hands raised in the air
they raise them like they just don’t care
as the morning
gets stretched
on into lunch, ah lunch
I’m batting .300 on lunch
this week
but am not in a coffin
and know I have enough
poems, all of them,
letters, my head
is filled with all 26
while the churchbell rings
I lie back on the bed
and arrange them
to spell out