Sad Little Breathing Machine by Matthea Harvey

The following is a poem from Sad Little Breathing Machine by Matthea Harvey, forthcoming from Graywolf Press in March 2004.

Introduction to the World

For the time being
call me Home.

All the ingenues do.

Units are the engines
I understand best.

One betrayal, two.
Merrily, merrily, merrily.

Define hope.Machine.
Define machine.Nope.

Like thoughts,
the geniuses race through.

If you're lucky

after a number of
revolutions, you'll

feel something catch.

—Reprinted from Sad Little Breathing Machine with the permission of Graywolf Press, Saint Paul, Minnesota. © 2004 by Matthea Harvey.