The world was full of things
Wonderful things. Terrible things. All sorts of things
Things like:

Delicate blossoms under urban scrub
Cold Coca-Cola in a frosty glass torso sweaty with summer condensation
Backwater bridges in faded wood and slickworn stone spanning brooks with nowhere to go
Florence Arizona, Nürnberg Bavaria, Meerut U.P. where rallies arise people unified solely by hate of the “other”
The song of a Phoebe and a Mourning Dove response on the 1st sunshine day in Central Park April
Skyscape’s
Rocks
Mossy logs
Ever new varieties of apples, sweet crisp tart, each with its own blossom perfume
Hats
Women’s hats
Fedoras
Hats w/ flaps to keep winter a few furry inches further away
Beanies
Once in a while a fez
The texture of bark, half flaked off, on a slowly eroding elm
Ducks everywhere
Boxes of chocolate intricately coded to reveal what’s hidden
Malignant tumors growing unseen behind the teeth
Cherishing love
Uncertainty
Fear
Quiet
The itch @ the back of the spine
Love redirecting leaving a chest tight & hollow
Hunger
Satiety
Orgasms
Curiosity
The exhalation of gratitude for a moment well lived well loved
Dogs barking
Potato chips
The odd passerby
Oxygen
Circus tents
Broccoli
Platform boots
Salsa
Inhaled beauty
Last gasps

& at the center sat Chekhov.
Chekhov the invisible boy

Sometimes if he tried very hard
If Chekhov shouted fast and acted weird
People would be able to see for a second
Maybe even hear what Chekhov had to say.
But, not for long

So Chekhov did the only thing he could think to do
Chekhov got
Louder &
Faster &
Weirder
every day week & year.

Chekhov would:

Swim off the very tip of India
where the ocean pummels the rocks
in undertow and battery
Get high in the Reichstag & Notre Dame
Vanish for a night
Play the organ in the Manila Cathedral
low notes echoing off stained glass and apse
just because the door was unlocked
Throw away a return ticket home from Kathmandu
because this search would take 6 months, not 2
Dog collar grovel
Clean out his high school storeroom
under the guise of playing guitar
& instead start to print manifestos of revolution
Special k – 2cc IV
Learn to taste food first
& ask what it is after
Beg and plead to stop the flow of time
Love well if not wisely
Ask everything
Bleed

Because Chekhov really wanted
really wanted
to be seen
To be heard
To be told
It’s ok, you exist

Recipient of the 2020 New York Acker Award for Show Organizer and Host, MATTHEW HUPERT is a writer and multi-media artist from New York City. He is a founder of the the NeuroNautic Institute & of NeuroNautic Press. He has 2 full length collections, several chapbooks, & his writing has appeared in numerous journals and anthologies. Matthew hosts several poetry reading series, including the annual showcase for New York voices, Night in the Naked City, and the monthly series NeuroNautic Institute Presents, & Don’t Bogart that Poem my Friend