Matthew Siegel

Home » Issue 92 » Matthew Siegel

Matthew Siegel


Listen, I still have scars
from when I learned to walk
and the revelers outside
leaving the bars sound more
like children every day.
My only regret for tonight
is that I did not spend it
reading in bed but instead
fell into the hole on the couch
staring into the hole I held
in my hands. I stared for hours
and imagined what it might be like
to touch someone and mean it.
I touched a screen with fingertips
and it flashed colors at me.
I ate ice cream and tried to cry
but couldn’t. I touched myself
how many times? No regrets.
I’m trying to build something
that resembles a life I can love.
Growing up seems so unsexy
yet there are so many things
I am ready to leave behind.

Matthew Siegel reads “Listen”


Matthew Siegel is the author of Blood Work, winner of the Felix Pollak Prize, and has poems forthcoming in Bennington Review, North American Review, and The Sun. He lives in Oakland, California.