Blue Luna

oh my child,

when it all seems hopeless.

When the trees all have QR codes

and the bank boys and balrogs

are holding all the cards.

When your refrigerator tells you

“THE IRANIAN PEOPLE YEARN FOR FREEDOM”

and your electric shaver can smell

if you’ve been reading Parenti.

When you’re on a first-name basis

with the police surveillance drones

and your colonoscopy screen

in the exam room

is running ads for Northrop Grumman.

And it is true,

oh my child,

it is true that the machine is mighty

and that its armor is very thick.

It is true that the bank boys

have long fingers

and they are putting marbles

in our minds.

The sky is red,

and the moon has a FOR SALE sign,

and parts of Palestinians

are turning up in our tap water.

But oh my child, do not be daunted,

and oh my child, do not despair.

There are forces within us

the Flock cameras can’t see.

There are depths within us

not even the balrogs can reach.

Beneath all the doomscroll addiction psychosis,

beneath all the oceans of trauma and toil,

a creature is stirring

and opening its eyes,

its eyes full of primordial déjà vu,

its eyes full of Big Bang recursions

full of eyes

watching eyes

watching eyes

watching eyes.

It looks at you,

and you meet its gaze.

Everything goes still.

You remember what you are.

Oh my sweet, darling child,

you see it now.

You see that This

could never be contained.”