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Posts tagged “justin rigamonti

Justin Rigamonti

Justin Rigamonti, who received his MFA in Poetry from UC Irvine, teaches composition in Portland, OR. He is currently finishing work on his first collection of poems, Songbird Disorder.


Soup

by Justin Rigamonti

Three old ladies across from me ate soup
and spoke methodically of soup while I
pounded through lines aimed fixedly at death.
In my verse a party of lost hikers were earnestly
considering the consumption of their fourth,
Charles, who was fast becoming a blue
brick. When I looked up for some respite from this,
the lady on the left was gesturing with her
wasp-paper wrist out toward the idea of a
very good goulash. What I wanted to say
about bodies, about Charles’ body, about
what exactly vanished in transit, wasn’t coming.
The lady on the far right tapped her wrinkled
index finger on the tabletop and said, “Soul!
It’s the salt, ladies.” None of us spoke while
sunlight momentarily filled our café corner,
and I could feel them suddenly conscious
of my presence, of what it is that hustles through
these coffee shops, by this body, by my name.


Window Sill

by Justin Rigamonti

Three men waited while the fourth died.
Lost among the winter rocks going on
six days now, the company had found
less and less to say. Hungry as hell,
they eyed each other. Could you make food
of human flesh?, their guts asked
as they slouched beside the bluish brick
their friend became. They’d heard of it
being done—some sad, lost group like theirs
eating limbs & buttocks of departed pals.
His name was Charles. What was left
of Charles? Part of him seemed present
yet he wouldn’t speak, wouldn’t respond
and they began to think that Charles
had never actually been a 200 pound bag
of calories—that in fact, he’d only leaned
through its window for awhile and this
was the gift he’d left on the frosty sill.