n a t e    s l a w s o n

 

 

THE SUBURBS (machine)


THE SUBURBS (parade)









































THE SUBURBS (machine)

 

I invented a machine that measures heartache.

This makes me exceedingly happy. And also very lonely.

I want to be buried in a drunk tank. Imagine, Sam,

someone breathing forever into a breathalyzer for you.

No machine can fully understand the catastrophe of being human.

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THE SUBURBS (parade)

 

At the parade the marching band stops marching.

Seconds later a small girl opens her mouth as if to speak.

The girl’s mouth has become a forest. An owl flies out.

Why does this happen at every parade?

I will not lie to you, Sam. This life hurts more than usual.

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NATE SLAWSON designs books for cinematheque press. He is the author of two chapbooks, most recently The Tiny Jukebox (H_NGM_N Books, 2009). His work has appeared or is forthcoming in Slope, Handsome, Cannibal, Corduroy Mtn., Forklift, Ohio, Typo, and other places.


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