Three Poems from Matthew Borczon

My heart   Is a bullet without a gun a rope without a tree a knife without a sheath it’s whiskey without water a dog off its leash looking for a porch to sit out the rain. My hands   Are birds with burned feathers the devils instrument ten sausages on a vegan’s breakfast plate…

2 Poems from Matthew Borczon

Stanley My grandfather used to say that when you die you are re- incarnated on another planet and  we used  to laugh  at this idea until years later when I read that physicists have the same theory provable by math and now I think that maybe the universe is not so complicated maybe all you…

Finding his calling by Matthew Borczon

Barry had really wanted to be a priest, but he only got as far as learning the sympathetic handshake. The one with two hands and a gentle pat on the back of your hand. Soon after he joined the seminary he fell in love with a local girl who worked in the coffee shop he…

Afghanistan 2010 by Matthew Borczon

I once spent the whole afternoon looking for the amputated leg of an English soldier. I searched the loading dock they wheeled him into the hospital from, I looked in the room we put his gear when he came in on the helicopter. I searched everywhere their lieutenant told me to, all the while thinking…

Terry’s car by Matthew Borczon

Susan knew she had other options, knew she was pretty, whatever that meant. She also knew she was tired of being a second choice. This was something she learned the hard way first from the quarterback in high school who wrote her love poems but slept with her friend all because she wanted to be…