Visionary

A Poem by Matthew Clough

I glimpsed my future

when the fog rolled in

and I killed myself on

the concrete divider,

doing 117 in the rain.

There were June eves

with red wines and

Italian dishes I couldn’t

pronounce, savored with

melodious string quartets.

There were weddings

and receptions, dances

in ballrooms, a whirlwind

of tuxedos, bow ties, and

slim red velvet dresses.

There were children,

a girl with her teddy bear,

bubbly with yellow joy,

and a boy, pushing my old

toy trains on the sidewalk.

There were trips to Rome,

balloons in electric Paris,

calamari under starry Venice,

ribbons in sandy blonde hair,

floating through London alleys.

There were raised voices

and arguments over money,

checkbooks ripped in half

and strewn atop black bills

piled upon college brochures.

There were shards of glass

scattered across the kitchen

after I shattered the casing

of the old grandfather clock

with my leathery red fist.

There were sleepless nights

on the lumpy sofa and

shaking palms pulsing with

the energy of excess Adderall,

bloodshot eyes shooting darts.

There were 3 am talks

with old Henry at the

downtown bar, flipping

nickels and kissing strange

women in miniskirts.

There were springtime visits

to the grave of my youngest,

a bottle of whiskey in one

hand and Bible verses scrawled

on the back of the other.

There were divorce papers

I couldn’t read and words

that came out slurred, my

hand shaking over the inky

line marked with an X.

There were winter evenings

I collapsed against frozen

stop signs on Highway 1o,

shivering with pearl earrings

in my torn breast pocket.

I glimpsed my future

when the fog rolled in,

and kissed it with bright

red lips, flinging the wheel

violently to the left to avoid

the steadily rising sun at

the end of the straightaway

blacktop, a journey along

white-lined heaven I couldn’t

take, meant for someone else.

© 2014 Matthew Clough

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Reviews

Bluemerlin

Very somber. I really want to dive into this poem and talk about the individual pieces, but it's kind of logn and I'm hungry. Generally, there is a very beautiful back and forth between mundane, the anguish, and the relief of knowing there's a life to be lived. I honestly am not sure if he chose to kill himself or not, because I can't tell if he swung right to avoid the barrier or the road ahead. Good show regardless.