What the Moon Said to Michael
After Clint Smith
Been called sickle,
scythe. I know
weaponized. Look at your lineup,
your mind: so sharp,
no wonder they think
you knife. Even if you fly to Japan,
I will be there. I see you
and see a son. I mean
a source of light.
The real conundrum
is there will always be you,
and the you
born from the dark
of a myopic imagination. I’ve watched
my light abused by beast
in mens’ bodies. Look at my scars,
my shine;
you should consider
the sky. Wonder why
all these Greek brothers
eternity around me
after they die?
Why we both a trope
of the night?
Who can resist
looking up
at a brilliant body
hung?
Notes:
“Not Too Hard to Master” is a series of poets writing on form and sharing a prompt. Read Michael Frazier’s essay on persona, “It’s Not a Mask If You Wear It Right,” his poems “At Church, I Tell My Mom She’s Singing Off-Key and She Says” and “Michael Receives Advice from Marceline the Vampire, the Queen of the Deadbeat Daddy Issues, on How to Cope with an Absent Father,” as well as his writing prompt.
Source:
Poetry
(May 2024)
