So the poem I posted the other day was sad. Here’s another one, also by Matthew Olzmann, used with his permission. It originally appeared in Gulf Coast magazine, the literary journal published by the University of Houston’s Creative Writing Program.
I think this poem is hilarious. 🙂 I hope you enjoy it. And I’m going to call it a transition into other things.
“The Skull of an Unidentified Dinosaur”
does not belong to the dinosaur skeleton
to which it has been attached.
A man thought he made an amazing
discovery. Now, it’s a towering mistake,
one for which he’ll likely lose his job,
but only after taking this skyscraper
of bones – with its eye-sockets
like windows to hell – apart.
Femur by mandible, I know what it means
to watch your good fortune change its mind.
Like that time in college, when my roommate’s
supermodel cousin invited us to a party
and accidentally kissed me in the dark.
She thought I was someone else – I have
no idea who – but the gist of the story
can be seen in her freaking out
when the light ruined everything.
For a moment, I thought I discovered
a new world. And what a world it was –
with its beaches of untouched skin,
and its moon that smelled of a hundred orchids.
I named that land I-could-live-here-
forever Land and holy-shit-was-I-wrong Land.
Einstein says imagination is more important
than knowledge. I imagine
the man who wired these dinosaur bones
must have imagined his vision was real,
must have pictured it alive. Covered in flesh,
it was frightening – able to cleave you
open with a swipe of a claw
or devour you in seconds.
But as it is now, having never existed
after tricking you into believing,
it eats at you more slowly, lets you feel
every new rip in your gut, makes you beg:
What kind of animal is this?
I call it: The Motherfuckerasaurus.
And, technically, that’s not the right name,
but neither is the word stamped here now –
in block letters, on a bronze plaque,
screwed to the floor.