songs from suburbia, part 33

the internet will tell us the moon will not be full
until 10:53 this morning so please do not howl
until then. it is with some relief that i sit down
at the breakfast table, and nurse myself with
some coffee and eggs in the honeyed daylight.
it is not yet spring, so we have some time before
the lawnmowers start racing across the suburban
lawns, neighbors waving to each other while
secretly in competition. one of them leaves a note
taped to the other’s storm door: if you can’t wave
at me, please do not wave at my wife. the car is
parked with its sad flat tire because i couldn’t get
to the mechanic the day before, so the trip to the
woods is cancelled. we will watch the birds migrate
on the television instead, spooning last night’s
dreams into our mouths while thumbing through
the newspaper declaring a state of national
emergency due to the commander in chief’s
hair on fire. outside, the swans will drift quietly
across the mirrored lake, mates for life with no
option for divorce. the moon is so full in the sky
and we open our windows, ready to scream.


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