NOSTALGIC FUTURISM I-III

by Sara Matson

I

heat scratching in pools
like refined pumps, teenagers
remind me how it’s
impossible not to admire
the jutting, angular quality
of obsolescent life

cobalt silk dragging
cement chunk under my pocketbook,
we arm our way to the bus
yellow breaking the oasis of the street

legs crossed over broken mirror
i notice ur purple toes
blood blocking a pleasant neutral color
swept in crinoline
the latex tugs at my mask, quiver
caught in transition

(i pretend to exist)

i take my gown to the cleaners
+ my eyelids to the dyer
(matching      forever)

       my gloves go to the shoemaker
       (need        fingers)

my lips go to my husband’s lips
my hair to the stylist
(incorrigible fervor)

my crown to the jeweler
my seafoam spray to the ocean
we are thousands (those that never touched an ocean)
landlocked lovers dreaming of wet

don’t fuck with me

II

cylindrical library knee high
synthetic child insists in the basket,
a rhythm (to the leather texture)
rhythm (drags behind) so i
grab the broken goblet with a fist,
triumphant in bloodlessness +
pour the weighted ribbon
to the mouth of the machine

i hang metal crucifixes from my princess
leia buns, a warning
for men not to fuck with me
       especially god

everyone is their own god
accidentally
and that feels nice
in the way shower water
finally crawling out of my ear
feels nice

people die all the time but keep on living
clutching secrets between babyteeth

III

this [extremely famous influential song] reminds me
of the time i watched myself from far, far
away
i knew it was me –
yesterday’s eyeliner
crunchy halfcurls
drinking + smoking
swatting sunrays
whispering to individual leg hairs
swirling
g r e e n

and we realize it’s true,
everything and everyone is connected
the literal answer to why
      [like, why-why]
      [as in w-h-y]

but we all already knew

is it typical? atypical? btypical?
tropical. crawling out my ear.

don’t fuck with me.

Sara Matson (she/her) is a poet in Chicago and host of the seasonal online reading series Words // Friends. Her poems can be found in Kicking Your Ass, Bone Bouquet, The Chicago Reader, and Ghost City Press. Sara can be found on Instagram @skeletorsmom and Bluesky @saramatson.bsky.social