Poem of the Day: Smudgeprint Moon

It was not
so far out of reach,
the moon.

The one moon.
The only moon.
The night sky

white thumbprint against a carbonblack sky,
& everytime she looked back the moon seemed
to shift sideways, as though to inch around behind her

to the other side.
She smiled.
Smudgeprint moon, you old trickster.

You devil, you can't fool me.
Then she went back to working
under the steering column of the car.

&when the car roared into life,
she slammed the door, gunned the engine, and
went screaming into the night

chasing after that moon.






MR
2015-0928



Since the Academy of American Poets always has their poets describe their poems, I will describe this one:

"This poem is about our dreams, those things we long for, that which seems out of reach but is always within reach, depending on our imagination.  It speaks to the depths of our souls, and how our longing can drive us to reach for the unreachable.

"Oh, who am I kidding!  It's a poem about a chick car thief!!"

Overheard at Table 3: All Done with Bieber Fever

1: Saw a girl the other day, walking to the amusement park, had a t-shirt saying "I HEART JUSTIN BEIBER" - thought to myself, 'Man I didn't think anybody would still be listening to that guy."

2: Does seem weird.  Was she punking it out or was she just some sort of retro-nerd.

1: More like a retro-nerd, from the looks of it.

3: Personally I think it'd be cool to be Bieber.

2: Well, yeah, you get the money, the fame, the fans, until the fans all grow up.

3: That's what I think is so cool.  Fame only lasts about five years, right?

1: More or less.

3: Look at it.  The Stones still have to tour and those guys are pushing 90 it seems like, but they have to keep having these monster concerts to cover all their houses, ex-wives . . .

2: Keith's massive coke habit.

3: ... Keith's massive coke habit.   But if you're Bieber, you have a frikkin awful schedule for about five years, touring, interviews, whatever, then poof!  All done.  Over.  Nothing but some retro-nerd wearing your shirt.  And if you've put your money away right, live simply, don't buy yourself an island . . .

1: Or get a massive coke habit.

3: ... or get a massive coke habit, then you're set for life and you never have to work another day.  It's all surf and sun and playing frisbee with your golden retriever in the park.  The Sweet Life.

2: That would be great.

1: The only problem is that we're all pushing 30.

2: And we don't sing.

3: Did I say every plan was perfect?

Overhead at Table 1: First Week of Tenth Grade

Father:  So how was your first week of school?

Son: OK, I guess.  Not much.  Teachers seem to like me, so I guess that’s cool, grade-wise.

Father: How do you know they like you?

Son: Simple stuff.  Raise my hand to ask questions.  Don’t talk while they’re talking.  I was the only one who turned in the first assignment.

Father: Sad when just doing the right thing make you extraordinary.

Son: No doubt.

Overheard at Table 3: Latino Family

Husband: ... it's just that, taking her everywhere, it might be a little much, you know.

Wife: You knew we had to take care of her when we had her come live with us.

Husband: Right, but...

Wife: And she wanted to go with us to take Carlita to her first day of college.

Husband: I know, that was OK, but...

Wife: So what are you all bent out of shape about?  You don't like taking care of my aging mother?  The one who gave me birth?  The one who worked all her life to get me and all my brothers started in our lives?

Husband:  Honey, I'm just saying that, EVERY time?   I mean, we used to have date night.  Now date night is going to out to eat, all three of us.

Wife: Well maybe if I were a gringa wife you wouldn't have to worry about it.  It'd be just you and me and we'd put her in a home, but then I wouldn't be cooking and cleaning for you, or doing your ironing or folding, how would you like that?   You would understand better about taking care of the elderly relatives if you were a Latino husband.

Husband: Baby if I were a Latino husband I'd be telling you to fix me some carne asada before I went out and spent the night with my mistress.

Wife: [pause].   OK you got me on that one.   But don't PUSH me about my mother!

Husband: Got it.

Overheard at Table 2: 15 Bean Soup

Woman: ... but I thought you loved my 15 bean soup.

Man: Baby, I LOVE your 15 bean soup!  It's just that eight hours later I'm blowing fire out my butt.

Overheard at the Counter: Bono, Sinéad, and Van

Verble is meandering through his memories...

"I remember this documentary I saw in the mid-90s, about Irish music.  Both trad and rock, as I recall.  I forget most of it, but it was going through the whole history, and at certain points it would have these short interviews with big name stars at the time.  I remember they asked each the same question, 'What makes you make music?'  like, 'What is your driving inspiration?'

"They asked this of Bono, who replied something like 'I see myself in a long literary tradition, just as being a poet of the street.  The voice of the common man.  All my lyrics touch the heart of the working class, up through all classes, really.  I am more like a poet.'

"Then they asked the same question of Sinéad O'Connor, who said "I am like part of the ancient Celtic tradition.  The voice of the Earth goddesses who spoke to the prophets in song.  In some sense, I am probably a reincarnation of that mystical force so ingrained in Irish culture and history.'

"Then, toward the end of the whole documentary, they asked the same question of Van Morrison, and he just said, 'I dunno.  I write songs.  That's what I do.'

"And I remember shouting out, 'Now THAT guy's the REAL DEAL!'"