I'll Come Over the Horizon
in my vengeance, shoulders
broad and teeth unstained, wearing
my big mood like a tracksuit.
For your part you’ll hear a song
you loved when you were seventeen
sizzling at the border of your skin
and breath, the one that blew
the doors right off your youth.
I won’t defile you with regret;
I won’t be cruel, although
I have grown cunning and know
how to keep my secrets. I’ll lay
you down like a grenade.
I won’t be greedy or attempt
to sift you from your nature’s core.
I’ll offer you a hand
that knows your shape, that held
you for a time in radiance
and now is radiance
itself, and soon you’ll scatter
your desire and grief across
the earth, a fiery
blossom in the air. When I
come over the horizon made
of tempered majesty
on the shoulders of the gale,
even this poem will be too small
to hold me. I’ll be a weapon
of prodigious reach, I’ll be
the one who pulls the pin.
About the Author: Matt Muth is the co-founder and Editor-in-Chief of Pacifica Literary Review. His poems have appeared in Rattle, RHINO, Cleaver, Heavy Feather Review, and Nashville Review. He teaches English at a technical college for video game designers in Redmond WA, lives in Seattle, and is a solid beer-league hockey player.