Five Poems
NICE WORK IF YOU CAN GET IT
A short history.
Maggie was throwing a pot in the driveway.
Nate had it all in translation.
You don’t believe in that and the neighbor’s dachshund sprints across the cul-de-sac and a plant falls off the porch.
The gist of it is, well, dubious at best.
No one saws beautiful women in half anymore.
My car navigation is also not working.
I don’t want to be the imposter in the temple.
Friends catch up over a x-ray of a foot. They zoom in because gory details are honest. Whose foot is never clear, that’s the worst part.
Most of the good themes have already been taken.
It’s nice work if you can get it.
Looking at the big picture, I mean.
We sort of wave hands in agreement.
Lines snake at the walking museum.
Maybe a little too much walking if I’m being honest.
What I meant when I said this song is dedicated to the one I love, versus you, lying on a beach towel, the moon in your arms.
I met you because of the algorithm.
Baby, the algorithm.
MY LUCK RUNS NORTH
They’re going to have to hose the blood off the gym walls.
Which is another way of saying, we’ve neglected our waking lives to what end we don’t even have a handle on.
Our reservation is honored and after the bread arrives, we dance, sitting down after taking the temperature of fellow diners.
Eat your heart out, Meredith Monk.
I used to be funny and you’re still.
COUPLES SKATE
Sincere techno leaks from the bakery.
And so early in the morning!
Betwixt commitment and buying a leaf blower is the state I am in.
Carmen was kicking the tires, really giving them a good wallop.
“Nearby, the sea shone or something” (Shanna Compton).
Couples skate will literally bring us closer together.
IT MEANS COBWEB IN CZECH
New problem is a paint you’re considering.
What I said about no stakes in a bad essay.
There’s an ice cube shape for most occasions.
Dig, if you will, the picture of a cat in 3D glasses.
Years later, someone knocks at the door with a big surprise.
HEART RATE CENTO PART 2
after Danika Stegeman
As usual, I have given you a piece of my heart.
“Yvette said that if the astronaut Gus Grissom hadn’t died on the ground in the Apollo fire, he would probably have died on the moon of a heart attack,” Charlotte told Constance.
“It’s always the sweetest ones that break your heart.”
She was sure a heart of gold must beat beneath that ugly sweater.
When the governor’s heart fails / the state bird falls from its branch
A song rings false / when the heart’s / not “in it”
“Besides, uh, I don’t believe in quantum physics when it comes to matters of the heart.”
My heart…was in my throat.
Your bullet is very close to my heart.
My heart is made of gravy.
I cannot live without my heart or my liver, also.
Let’s treat it more like being sworn in and not / like a drug deal of the heart.
Her answer was this: “You must bury it at a crossroads, of course, with a little stake driven through its heart.”
You are going to have your bloody, beating heart ripped out, but you are going to have to stand in line, in the hot sun, for hours, waiting your turn.
There are more major things than minor things overall, yet there are more minor things than I have written here, but it is disheartening to list them.
Sources in order of appearance:
Mary Ruefle, “The Heart, What Is It?”; Joy Williams, “Summer”; James Tate, “The Motorcyclists”; Michael Earl Craig, “Diana”; Silver Jews, “Pretty Eyes”; Sara Nicholson, “The Art of Symmetry”; Bull Durham; Mystery Science Theater 3000, “Mitchell”; Chelsey Minnis, “VIPs”; Pavement, “AT&T”; Amanda Nadelberg (Best American Poetry Blog); The New Pornographers, “Another Drug Deal of the Heart”; Kurt Vonnegut, Galápagos; Louis Jenkins, “Regret”; Anne Carson, “Short Talk on Major and Minor”
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Nate Logan is the author of Wrong Horse (Moria Books, 2024) and Inside the Golden Days of Missing You (Magic Helicopter Press, 2019). He lives in Indiana.