A Fistful of Poems from Max Thrax

Max Thrax, Poetry

BIO: Max Thrax lives in Boston. His stories and poetry have appeared in Bristol Noir, Shotgun Honey, and Versification. God is a Killer (Close to the Bone) will be published on May 27th, 2022. Find him online at www.maxthrax.com and on Twitter @ThraxMaximilian

NUMISMATICS

Some fall through history

Stillborn

Never grow legs

Or wings

Or even

A layer of skin

Pages of Tacitus

Eminent statesmen

Professional virgins

Bad thieves

Bite and scurry

And hide

Yet find

Their hands nailed

To the Senate door

When the tree dies

It becomes a coin

When the coin blackens

It turns the roots

Earth that is

No earth

Life that is

No life

Fine life

Where all coins

Are counterfeit

Where life

Only breeds 

Below

Above

Only waits

To die

HOLLOW SHELL

Last photos

Of you

Dark

Drawn face

Long

Half-melted

Now in town

I recall

Your blue tracksuit

As you sniggered

At my new girl

From the steps

I recall

We watched The Devils

Wasn’t it funny

To someone

Who flayed herself

A little

Everyday

You called

Roommate boiling crack

I laughed

Revere Beach

Drowsy hot

You handed me

A hollow shell

I threw it back

Wish I never

Threw it back

THE GENERAL

The general spits

And sometimes

Speaks

He says

Wear a mask

With a hood

Hide yourself

You never know

Who’s about

I listen

Grind my teeth

Eventually spit

And say

Nothing