Photo by Timur M on Unsplash



poem: “Socialism” is Currently the #1 Trending Word on Merriam-Webster.com


My brain ekes in the dark without 

a flashlight. Holding a banana to ward off 

scurvy and North Sea pirates. I live under

a wrecked ship’s hull. From the ceiling it rains 

rats. I eat them. First, we talk. In my telescope.

The Dey waves a silver hand. For the seraglio. 

For the Danes to send the goods. I will plunder. 

The Dey already lounges beneath a copse 

of umbrellas. Whither these umbrellas? The blue floor 

on which I sleep lolls me. Wetly. Varmints 

fall into my parasols. Into Elsinore.





poem: Arboretum


Inside I bloom.

Adroit fingers


make signs. Sinister

signs? I don’t know


the names overgrown. With breath

I share a bench. My blue friend,


breath. Path rustic enough for

believability. Path’s stealth


manicurists remain hidden. Division

of mysteries unconsidered. Scent-


struck. I will not always be here

with backpack and army


of notecards. Wandering toward

sex. Labeling things. Some


soft. Some









Matt Broaddus is a Cave Canem fellow and author of a chapbook, Space Station (Letter [R} Press, 2018). His poetry has been published in Fence, Foundry, PANK, and Heavy Feather Review. He lives in Lakewood, Colorado and works at a public library. He tweets sometimes @mattbroaddus.