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American Whitecaps

by Nathan Mathes

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About a man I met. Romance paperback. With these arms outstretched over again. This time with olive skin. In the lake violet. Been five minutes yet? The sun the sentences. On the raft again. This time with olive skin from the corner store.
Reaching and bracing. Red and the new friend. Fine drawn the furniture. The fancy less. So far behind now. Boys betting all they can. The places alive now and turning in.
Reaching and bracing on the stool as we grow so far behind what the rest seem to know. Fine drawn furniture the fancyless. All that adorns the corner floor like the history buzz. It may have been a long day but we’ve got more to go until the turning in. Red the friend the closet case makes the boys bet all they can in the places they live. Fine drawn furniture the fancyless. All that adorns the corner floor like the history buzz.
The heat and all it’s worth. So much for the undertow. When the one we want. Layers down. Lion around the lamb. Dear You was the record. Feature face the vehicle race. Such a chance of weather. Angle awake. Pixels rearrange.
Oh familiar tune. Out on a Monday. When the piano plays. End of the country. Just what the palette craves. Friends with the old men. Old record on the way. Charles’ the end of day. How has my brother been? We should call and be there in the morning.
Pure the blossom bare all the moves. All dining in. All of the work. All of the others tackling the issues just for you. Instrumental looks all the same. Here for the lesson. Here for the show. Here for the nighttime. Shed a light on the indifference.
I’d be an athlete if I had thoughts like you. A warrior with neighborly ambition. The minor companion is always letting down. Eagle eyes on Monday and the midday. Former the floor. Tools never board.
The sea is ridge. The buttons on back allowing light where there are broken on the line. The mirror makes everyone feel. Breathing is what the friends all like the way they feel. It’s leaning on a steady pace. The heat is on. We feel the same.
On The Well 02:43
On the well. We’re getting good on the well. On the end. We’re coming clean on the end.
Aflame it is on fire. Video tape disaster. Betting school for hire. Asleep: the rest of the night. Through the trees with signal. Table tops and forest floors. We creep along like bakers and filing cabinet makers. Dead letter held in the palm. Those foggy nights and the choir sing along. Just below the surface. Monday morning scientist. Everything’s already written. The fish all love their next-of-fin. Post officer strolling toward the door. American whitecaps comb the shore.
Right where it should be. Right this time. Good looking in looking in red. But the spot up on top back up today.
Exploding the home. Volume the place we had. Right onto the ground. Capital understand. Through the river one transnational moment. Markets of the day. Long cycle lively debate. I will recognize my eyes the leaves above me. When we are buried there in the new life fared. Rifles on the pond under the instrument sound. New resolute you. Terrible flows and among. Right for us to say. Bent through the walls of the day. Factor to the lake. This day through you or the same.
The shift into the side. She’s so upset. It’s the floor and lay with no regret. This the time the close the shop she lays. Everyone on the hour. A morning sound just as the sun goes down. When were we supposed to be around? The canopy. The maple leaves. The lawn. Everyone on the hour.


released July 10, 2010


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Nathan Mathes Green Bay, Wisconsin

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