Mathew Yates
when the sky goes twister-green
a brick hum
the hum of a brick building
up against a wind
a wind hung up high
& let loose like a pendulum
the old dog can hear it too
a thick hum
measurable like color
not water
not a hum you can hold
like the hum of life
the thin & hollow
hum of life
which fills right up
as easy as it depletes
that curls around your heart
& shrinks around your feet
nor the hum of fate
which, as if it matters,
sounds exactly like the rain
but a thick hum held
in the air around the building
on the hill behind the trailer
which warns the boy & old dog
of a storm around the corner
an elegy for shelter
the hum of a brick building
up against a wind
a wind hung up high
& let loose like a pendulum
the old dog can hear it too
a thick hum
measurable like color
not water
not a hum you can hold
like the hum of life
the thin & hollow
hum of life
which fills right up
as easy as it depletes
that curls around your heart
& shrinks around your feet
nor the hum of fate
which, as if it matters,
sounds exactly like the rain
but a thick hum held
in the air around the building
on the hill behind the trailer
which warns the boy & old dog
of a storm around the corner
an elegy for shelter
Biography
Mathew Yates (he/they) is queer, disabled a poet and artist from Kentucky. His work can be found in Barren Magazine, Epigraph Magazine, honey & lime lit, Rhythm & Bones Lit, and more.
