Sunday, 9 July 2017

A poem by Sergio Ortiz

Piece of My Heart


Ms. Joplin
your voice rips apart
my face, my tie― the mark
of all hanged men.

My remains roll on the ground
and the edge of your voice
blows my Monday into pieces.

I have the hunger of the employee
staring with contempt at the image
of his face in the glass door.

My hunger, a factory of anxieties,
its certainties, is convinced
that nothing will improve,
that this flagship raised during youth
will also sink. My last refuge
will have to be the skin
or the solitary bottle of whisky.

Janis, your voice is a knife
vibrating in the throat of pain.

But now
silence.

I have come to the place where
little masters live
and I hurry to annihilate the desire
of damning all to hell.






Sergio A. Ortiz is a two-time Pushcart nominee, a four-time Best of the Web nominee, and 2016 Best of the Net nominee. His poems have appeared or are forthcoming in FRIGG, Tipton Poetry Journal, Drunk Monkeys, Bitterzeot Magazine, Moko, and The Paragon Journal.  He is currently working on his first full-length collection of poems, Elephant Graveyard.

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