“My Moon Book” by Jordan Davis

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.

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Image: “Moon” by Sarah Clark