Penn State York

A Heart and its Home by Matthew Cocco (Poetry)

Discovering love is like playing cops and robbers,

hearts chasing those who abducted their feelings-

 

putting her into custody behind an abandoned ribcage.

Thinking love is a Manhattan high-rise filled with red

 

carpeting, when it’s a nap on the couch with John Williams

conducting a symphony of snores in the background.

 

Mistaking your beauty with a designer dress, when it really lies

in a messy bed at four in the morning. Fireworks

 

and confetti don’t follow the first kiss, but a dire need

for chap stick. Quotas for restless nights per month.

 

Many play the piano with their lips. Others hold back tears

like window screens. Some randomly drive to escape

 

reality like a schizophrenic convict on Alcatraz. I scale

the crumbling mountain in your mind and gather thoughts

 

like the highest bidder in the emergency room. Tattoo

your face on my eyeballs, so I can take snapshots

 

of your smile with my right pupil. Soft stares catapult

into ribs, splintered toothpicks break through and inject

 

the heart with thoughts of you-pirouetting in my head-

like a rocket-fueled carousel funneled into a tornado.

 

I circumnavigate your lungs like Magellan,

just so I can spend every breath with you.

 

Voyage across the minefield in your chest; witness

Atlantis breach the ocean’s surface or UFOs breach

 

the skyline. Load that shot glass with 750 mL rounds

and hunt in that cardiovascular crater. Take shots

 

at a Grey Goose against chalkboard walls until

the mind is held hostage-like some sick game.