August, Christmas & Black Holes
Driving in August Dog days listening to
Christmas music. Pumpkins on the side of the
road and I just bought a Halloween sign at
Can’t tell one season from the next anymore.
Religious believers say it’s a sign that Jesus
I say it’s a sign that the only place the 18th
century can be found any longer is riding on a
rocket ship or in a stethoscope, and it ain’t
Old mountain folk say to count the heavy
fogs in August to know how many winter
snows will come, and how much wood to
Those signs are a dying breed, sucked in
by the Beatles, Derrida, Foucault, that whole
death of reason carnival that gathered gravity
like a black hole at the center of a galaxy till
an entire culture has been vacuumed in.
What do we have now? A freak show with the
media as ring man, a plotless story so bad that
even it can’t be deconstructed, a place where the
inmates give therapy to the masses.
So look for the signs, any sign, that a hair crackis flying through air.
Ralph Monday is Associate Professor of English at Roane State Community College in Harriman, TN., and has published hundreds of poems in over 50 journals. A chapbook, All American Girl and Other Poems, was published in July 2014. A book Empty Houses and American Renditions was published May 2015 by Aldrich Press. A Kindle chapbook Narcissus the Sorcerer was published June 2015 by Odin Hill Press.
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