Sam Riviere (poetry)


four poems to sophie


it’s a shame about yr toothache

that you had to sell chocolate

to mutant children all morning

but today is your birthday

which is always sunny

there’s this wind blowing

through the feature length episode

at the end of the season

I don’t think trees have ever

looked so green as when

with amazing hangovers

we walked from yours saying

I hate everyone except you

there being some truth in it

this poem isn’t about that really

how doomsday failed to happen again

this being the least disappointed I’ve so

far been I’m calling when you finish

work at 12.35 outside the supermarket

I walk down the hill I see you there

look up I say it’s me I’m waving



it was something to do with the light

the way the trees look really green and toylike

this time last week we walked down jerningham

I was getting overexcited about a literary magazine

all morning the wind blows in like a new season

we’re getting married on thursday there’s no such

thing as an epiphany but there’s such a thing



as summer it is a time of intense

psychological pain all the girls

are out in summer outfits &

the ones approaching yr level

of coolness are nowhere near

as hot & the ones approaching

your level of hotness are

nowhere near as cool

let’s start a literary magazine

we’re getting married on thursday

my dick is a blank document



i want to make you breakfast

then go back to bed it’s

something to do with the light

i see u coming out of work

before u see me it’s terrible

u had to go to work on yr birthday

i shaded in the getty watermark

on the panther i printed for yr

birthday card all day yr phone

chimes texts like a wedding bell

they called off the apocalypse

for us again & the wind’s still blowing

do u see me yet i’ll send this text

i’m by the seafood shack i’m waving


by Sam Riviere

Return to Issue 49