By Matt Zambino
Transcendental-meditationally speaking,
trepanation simply ain’t the way
to the enlightened genius of Anonymous—
history’s most famous poet,
chef, philosopher, comedian, painter, sitarist,
and globe-trotting roustabout—
because life’s all so simultaneously
innocent and experienced
that reality seems born of a child’s mind
mixed with the grandmotherly wisdom
necessary to stereo-blare the dead-right
lounge-singing crooners of way-back-when,
who maybe knew the love-mapped secret
to trekking through existence since
outside a spring morning’s window
the honey-bugs buzz, the greenest grass
grows on this side of the fence and wakes
damp with dawn, and all of Creation
is dew, is bees, dew, bees, dew.
___
Matt Zambito is the author of The Fantastic Congress of Oddities, and two chapbooks, Guy Talk and Checks & Balances. New poems are forthcoming in Slipstream, Freshwater Literary Journal, San Antonio Review, and elsewhere. Originally from Niagara Falls, he now writes from Wilson, New York, where he resides with his rescue dog, Sadie.