Matthew Gellman
Blindness
A little boy dropped his doll in the street. Nothing about this
was easy. The dress fluttered over the plastic skin. Her parts
were female, composed, face-up. There was dirt all over
her palms. He touched the asphalt. Cars and buses lulled.
When he found her, he held her lashes all the way open.
Matthew Gellman's poems are featured in Word Riot, DIALOGIST, H.O.W. Journal, Lambda Literary, Two Peach and elsewhere. He is the recipient of an Academy of American Poets prize and a scholarship from the New York State Summer Writer's Institute. He lives in New York and is an MFA candidate at Columbia University.
Return to May 2016 Edition
A little boy dropped his doll in the street. Nothing about this
was easy. The dress fluttered over the plastic skin. Her parts
were female, composed, face-up. There was dirt all over
her palms. He touched the asphalt. Cars and buses lulled.
When he found her, he held her lashes all the way open.
Matthew Gellman's poems are featured in Word Riot, DIALOGIST, H.O.W. Journal, Lambda Literary, Two Peach and elsewhere. He is the recipient of an Academy of American Poets prize and a scholarship from the New York State Summer Writer's Institute. He lives in New York and is an MFA candidate at Columbia University.
Return to May 2016 Edition