:: Article

Three Poems

By Zachari J. Popour.

Soon enough

soon enough
the cockroaches
will claim our bones
as the new frontier

and it won’t be pretty

it won’t be marilyn monroe’s dress
tempting night
over a NYC subway grate
with its iconic sexuality

it will be norma jeane mortenson
having chased the itch
cold bloated bruised
and all too human on the slab

we’ll understand what it means
to be completely vulnerable
to be as extraneous as a one night stand

an instant is all it takes

and it’s the accumulation
of those instances
that wear us thin

like the discovery of love
and how everything is glorious
and daisies in the sun

followed by an instant
of opaque acceptance
in how it took her
fucking him
to make you not want her

and so it goes

from the cloth of infinity
to the threads of inevitability

as you are
i was
as i am
you will be.


kindness is as delicate as the pincers of an earwig
it’s give and take, pro and con,
and has the ability to turn headstrong romantics
into bare knuckled pugilists

it’s liable to backfire like a facetious gesture
or a musket seeped in gunpowder

i’d spent the better part of a year in bed with B.
her head nestled into my chest
and long after she’d gone
the impression of her face remained

i called it the love divot that had exhausted its welcome

it was beautiful, there’s no doubt about that,
but the remnant of its kind grin tempted my sanity
had me coveting the ordinary
warped my posture to a sort of downtrodden
psychosomatic scoliosis
and i began recognizing people by their shoes
rather than their faces

my shirts didn’t fit right
each time my hands brushed against the indentation
i would break into a crying fit that lasted hours

the whole situation was very emasculating

i made a trek to town one afternoon
bought a box of plaster of paris, a bottle of water, and a claw hammer
returned home, b-lined it to the garage,
and whipped the plaster to a creamy paste

i laid down, poured the plaster
into that beautiful, kind, contagion dent,
lit a cigarette, and waited for it to dry

it had hardened by the 4th cigarette
i stood up, leaned forward, let the mold of B.’s face
fall into my hands, and set it on the ground

i took the claw hammer and struck my chest
until all that remained was overlapping checkered circles
then stood over the mold

i bent down, and kissed B. goodbye
one swift crack was all it took

kindness has a tendency to turn on you over time
it wraps you in a placenta of comfort
but can pull the rug out from under you
faster than the time it takes to acknowledge it

the build up is as soothing as a spring rain
the fall is as harsh as a shank to the liver

kindness gone bad flails like downed power lines
a prelude to electro convulsive shock therapy
and the sizzle resonates as a postlude
to the 5 second rule that doesn’t always apply.

Chet Baker’s contribution to society

happy has a way of sneaking up on you
it can be startling
like the snap of your father’s leather belt

you jump a little

your guts come up
to give your tonsils a good kick
the heart gets so full
you feel like you’re drowning

and you have to listen to Chet Baker tracks
like ‘You don’t know what love is’
to come down

to put happy in check
and remind it that too much of anything
ruins itself eventually.

Zachari J. Popour
Zachari J. Popour was born April 11th, 1985 and is a lifelong resident of Huron County, Michigan. He has been featured both online and in print in such publications as Kill Poet, Brain Box Press, Gloom Cupboard and Hemingway’s Shotgun.

First published in 3:AM Magazine: Saturday, February 21st, 2009.