TWO POEMS by SAMUEL STRATHMAN
Air Conditioner Sonnet
It’s not another used
air conditioner I want
so much as need.
I go through the leagues
of neighbours and find one
on the other end of town
who I call neighbour.
He asks me for a hundred
and fifty and I say to him
Make it an even thousand.
He shrugs his shoulders.
I pick my nose. Now I’ve got
two used air conditioners in the trunk,
all dolled up with nowhere to go.
Indie Music Lover
You’ve never heard
Of the music I listen to.
It’s not worth mentioning
any names.
It’s a type of music
that can only be heard
in the dullest corner
of a subbasement,
resounding like an echo, echo, echo.
These bands aren’t genre
but sentience,
sound.
A mix of ska
and Muzak that registers
to people who have found their spirit animal,
or are extremely woke.
Names are meaningless.
Put your ear to the wall.
If you are open to enlightenment,
then the ferrets will sing you home.
Samuel Strathman (he/him) is a poet, visual artist, and kitchen coordinator. Some of his poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Prole, I-70 Review, Voice Lux Journal, and other publications. He is the author of the chapbooks, "In Flocks of Three to Five" (Anstruther Press) and "The Incubus" (Roaring Junior Press). His debut poetry collection, “Omnishambles” is forthcoming with Ice Floe Press.