“the gospel according to matthew”

Bianca Messinger

for Stacy

he starts again, watching what concerns next then

finding it where you were and where the party

starts, going somewhere we need. it being a

smell thing and going back tomorrow at it with

the feeling of living, of what’s needed some

where else. he’s known it from a decade of

collecting frames only he didn’t force it into

feeling, or didn’t try to–that instinct

comes back accidentally. yeah, thanks to

things being polyvocal when they don’t know

what else they are, he asks what she’s

reading. she’s listening to the fish

jump, I was able to say what tools I used and

my process and it makes we want to get

caught but never do. i will tell you of the

heavens not of meditation or giving credit,

where the unrespected machines go, two

boys of the same vine only one comes to the

public and one goes the other way saying

it’s the will of the father, it being a

small thing and saying to let it take its

course like an anecdote. then taking a second

to focus on his glasses and his stupid taught body,

unable to see an escape or the prefect either,

she was too busy trying to be unworked

having given up on coming and instead asks

what it sounds like to be this close to god,

looking at portions of the street instead, its main

charm being a change in heart rate when the

music builds.