Poetry of Ian Spitzig
Oh Mathilda
oh Mathilda
why
did you
smoke out on the balcony
in the hot summer sun
speechless and tanned
licked by the sun’s hot tongue?
as the coloured birds
shuffled over to you
through the evergreen trees
why were you lost in your
own thoughts and worries?
dark body
unsheathed
from soft cotton clothes
placed delicately on the messy bed
smooth round stones
plopping into a placid pool
One way to steal beauty from the city
my canoe
can hold you Marina
and you Mirna
with your beautiful young bulging eyes
and slender pornographic bodies
my cabin
can sleep three
with its glass windows
and stone fireplace
my guitar
can soothe us
with its chords
and my voice
I will come promptly
to
the city
on white horseback
amidst the tanks
amidst the Hummers
amidst the police
amidst the choppers
to take you away to the forest
where you truly belong
Ian Spitzig describes himself as a “sexy young misfit looking for love, 29 years old, university educated . . . small town boy with big town dreams.”