A hot war forced systematic
corporatism on a nation of weirdos
who loved their cars, and
we got out of it
a bomb that could end the world.
This in turn gave us a cold war
in which we proved the superiority
of one kind of cabal over another
by means of martinis, sex, and jeans,
each of which was a trip to the moon.
Now as the waves crash over us
and the ones who pushed the buttons
leave this world to their lizards
I rise early and spit in a sink.
I was so scared of having only one child
that I hoarded a linen closet full
of notebooks to fill in the future
with the sorrows and betrayals
I was hoarding at the same time.
Now my fear is the third child
and by fear I mean wish. A first song
for a second son, a morning sky
emerging from under black clouds,
my focus returning under track light shadows.
Jordan Davis is a poet, critic, and editor; he served as Poetry Editor of The Nation from 2010 to 2012. His second book, Shell Game, was published by Edge Books in 2018. “My Moon Book” appears in a forthcoming chapbook tentatively titled Prayers of a Talking Dog.
Photo: “Somnambulism” by Sunny Leigh