Three poems by Kalliopi Mathios

bankrupt

i went to a training on how to be a supervisor they
asked us to take a personality test i was told that i
have an accommodating personality 

how can i help you? do you need
something? i asked my mother i asked my
father i asked my grandmother, grandfather i
asked my sister i asked a friend i asked a
lover i asked an enemy i asked the ocean 

jealous of how water holds the shape of
its container without shame; its ability
to cut through land or soften rocks over
time if there is no limit, it spills out
beads up, drip, drip, drops 

my violence has gone beyond the
realm of the verbal various
passions cant simply be
extinguished the weights of the
past have shifted the balance has
changed i don’t care about my
instagram and no one should ever
have to 

unfurling my requests is sticky batter, not even a
smudge, unclear, constantly changing, a flame 

to my detriment, an overwhelmed chain-smoking
hollowed out urn who lost her sense of delusion
with her ability to emotionally feel, heal, write
poems and the like 

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violin

i used to play violin or fiddle i loved
the smell of resin my chin and
shoulder a cradle my arm never felt
longer than with a bow in it sailing
back and forth over the body,
fingers steady on the neck 

untitled

I’m listening to rain bounce on the roof like golf balls
Raindrops rush together like a whisper
No one knows what the pipes do but the
Metal twangs softly and reminds me of Dolly

The cars honk and never stop: bumper to 
bumper, incessant, demanding, unfulfilled
It’s the end of the honking world and we’re honking
It’s the Boomer’s last stand, honking up our demise

Another machine that honks better in the country
With less congestion, a brighter moon
Glitter glass sky, a looped line
An open road, cleaner air, and loose limits

We’re honking as the fires burn, we’re honking
As the hurricanes churn, we’re honking, honking
Every time the president breathes, honking

Standing in the middle of the mall, honking
Swinging my arms from side to side 
With limp wrists and wiggling fingers
I indulge my honking floppy hat
There’s a flower honking in my pocket


Kalliopi Mathios is a writer and librarian. She is the author of Circusheart (Social Malpractice, 2018) and Horsegirl (2014). Her writing has appeared in Hobart, Dazed, Packet Bi-Weekly, among others.

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