A Poem for Black Friday

306_1moon_rise_over_orca_whale_pod

 

Whatever, Moon

 

If only the moon–

give me something anything

a hint of yourself as a grail

or a swan’s egg,

even the petrified face

of someone I miss or mourn–

it would be so easy to write a poem

 

Moon, you’re just being a moon

which makes me nothing more than a woman staring

through dirty glass

at unnamed brightness

this morning after Thanksgiving.

Yesterday, I was so grateful.

 

Today, I’m cold and convinced the world

is ruled by a policy of ice and commerce

 

Why should writing a poem be any easier

than standing in line through the long night

for the discounted holy cup of the xbox? 

 

Whatever, moon.

Go be the moon. Keep your metaphors.

Your silver horn blaring through the trees

doesn’t work anymore. You’re out of the band

 

and according to this black dog under my desk

knocking her white-tipped tail against my leg,

I’m the big drum that booms the call to march.

 

–Arlitia Jones

Nov. 29, 2013

5 Comments on “A Poem for Black Friday

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: