Michael Loughran was born in New Hope, Pennsylvania and later received an MFA from the University of Florida. His poems have appeared in Tin House, Can We Have Our Ball Back?, Harvard Review, jubilat, Lit, CAB/NET, and Subtropics. He teaches at the Community College of Philadelphia.

Links:
jubilat

Two poems by Michael Loughran


Pastiche with Occasional Botany and Art

When humans avoid low temperatures
love exists,

which accounts for Miroís
Flame in Space and Nude Woman:

it resembles a cat ingesting a raindrop
version of itself. In good health, corn plants

can transpire two quarts of water
in a day, whereas the succulents traffic

water to their fleshy parts
through wide root networks,

hoarding it there, sportingly. Conversely,
bamboo commits suicide every 33 to 66 years.

"Nowadays," said Miro at 67,
"I rarely start a picture from a hallucination."

Melvin Calvin discovered one single organ
can perform a large number of functions:

the human heart is known to migrate swiftly
and without warning, like a glove tossed from

the height of a tall statue.

[first appeared in American Letters and Commentary]


Found February Fourteenth

You are a fancy lady living in Madrid,
sometimes you wear very short skirts and look like a Brazilian prostitute.

You really turn me on. Iíve seen you with a little man.
Please respond if you know who you are.

I love you.

[first appeared in CAB/NET]