Two Poems by Michael Meyerhofer

THE PROTESTS OF THE UNWASHED MASSES

Not once have I witnessed it:
the calculation that must proceed
every rotten cabbage,
every egg launched like Greek fire
at some dumb passing noble
pilloried for his misdeeds.
But I like to imagine the mob
gathering reasonably that morning
at their separate tables, so many
fruits of the garden laid out
in that first slant of light,
their stomachs still rumbling
from an inadequate breakfast.
Perhaps they called in
the children to help them decide
which radish was too far gone,
which turnip would be better thrown
than mashed into a bitter stew.
Later, there will be shouting,
lips glistening with spittle.
But for now, they turn each apple
in their hands, like a judge.
Which one looks sick?
Which one can still be saved?

*

THE LAMENTATION OF FUSED ANKLES

In the annals of human suffering,
not being able to wear shorts in public

might not rank as high as it seemed
those childhood afternoons

when my classmates moved about
as one sun-washed muscle,

circling pools, backstroking
through ballparks, a little less

separating them from what made
nuns scowl like wet kites –

amidst all that clenched laughter
not one single pair of feet

like womb-mangled T-squares
blooming into broomstick calves,

nothing to be done at the gym
though I tried with what moved,

as though it were possible to lift
all those red-wrapped bones at once

and somehow hold them steady,
and somehow spill nothing.

*

Michael Meyerhofer is the author of five books of poetry – including What To Do If You’re Buried Alive (free from Doubleback Books). His work has appeared in The Sun, Missouri Review, Southern Review, Brevity, Rattle and other journals. He’s also the author of a fantasy series and Poetry Editor of Atticus Review. For more info and an embarrassing childhood photo, visit troublewithhammers.com.