Dotted Line Dotted Line

Poetry Summer 2020    fiction    all issues

Poetry Summer 2020 cover


Cover Vecteezy

Rodrigo Dela Peña
If a Wound is an Entrance for Light
& other poems

Shellie Harwood
Early Evening, Late September
& other poems

William A. Greenfield
The Deacon’s Lament
& other poems

J. H. Hall
& other poems

Kimberly Sailor
Two Aphids
& other poems

Sugar le Fae
& other poems

Lauren Sartor
Shopping Cart Woman
& other poems

Nathaniel Cairney
Mushroom Hunting, Jackson County, Kansas
& other poems

Elisa Carlsen
& other poems

Daniel Gorman
The Boy Achilles
& other poems

Samara Hill
I Look for Her Mostly Everywhere
& other poems

Nicole Justine Reid
Returning to Sensual
& other poems

David Ginsberg
Butterfly Wings
& other poems

Katherine B. Arthaud
Café Sant Ambroeus
& other poems

George R. Kramer
Young Odysseus
& other poems

Amy Swain
In Praise of Trees
& other poems

Frederick Shiels
Bad October: 2016
& other poems

Matthew A. Hamilton
Summer of '89
& other poems

Chris Kleinfelter
Getting from There to Here
& other poems

Martin Conte
Ghazal for the Shipwrecked
& other poems

Natalie LaFrance-Slack
I Do Not Owe You My Beauty
& other poems

Susan Marie Powers
Dark Water
& other poems

Writer's Site

Matthew A. Hamilton

Love Triangle

We parked in the driveway

and waited for the lights to go out

in your parent’s bedroom.

The house set back

from a quiet dirt road.

The surrounding woods

accepted the last light of the sun

before you cut off the ignition

and unhooked my seatbelt,

the smell of you a restless odor

pressing the inside of my upper lip.

We entered the house

and found your friend

waiting for us in the den.

Faint amber waves

of a corner lamp

hugged her exposed sex.

Your tongue pleased my ear

as your friend’s mouth

blew warm air down the trail

where sin travels like a controlled fire

clearing righteous undergrowth.

When we were finished,

we lay covered in blankets on the floor

and imitated the cautious actions

of Adam and Eve and Lilith.

We listened to heavy footsteps

march, in the cool morning,

down the miraculous staircase.

Summer of ’89

Jason dared me to touch you

down there in the garden of Eden

where the forbidden fruit ripened

on the tree that every boy wanted

to pick but could not because they

feared death, something I came

to desire after my father slugged

me so hard in the face I saw God.

Snubbing the consequences, I

touched you down there and you

said you liked it and you stuck

your tongue down my throat,

right down the essential conduit

of my being, and the bouquet of

your sex flowered on the tip of

my finger. When we rolled in

the hot, sticky grass, it stung

our bodies, but we did not care,

we were happy and in love,

two naked mammals collecting

crickets in our hair, preserving

the earth by our very nature,

the dirt and clay of a miraculous

creation, and naming, one by one,

all the animals in the woods, an

aesthetic action where fear, not

love, fades away.

Matthew A. Hamilton holds an MFA from Fairfield University and a MSLIS from St. John’s University. His chapbook, The Land of the Four Rivers, published by Cervena Barva Press, won the 2013 Best Poetry Book from Peace Corps Writers. His second poetry collection, Lips Open and Divine, was published in 2016 by Winter Goose. He and his wife live in Richmond, Virginia.

Dotted Line