I Bought A Markdown Moose This Year
(But Why? Read on. I know it’s. . . free form. Political. Still. . . )
Across the Anacostia
Down the Pennsylvania
A hundred seabirds
Rising in the setting sun
White bellies and white feathers
Brilliant pink
Rise and flutter in the setting sun
Sparkling pink in setting sun
Sparkling rosy petals fly
Across the river,
Flecks of pink against the sky
Driving to DC
On Christmas Eve
Alone on Christmas Eve
Across the Anacostia.
Down the Pennsylvania
Big Dome in the distance
Rising in the setting sun
High and brilliant in the sky
Shimmering Dome against the sky
Curve of pink, sparkling pink
Sparkling pink against the sky
Slice of rose against the sky
Driving to DC
On Christmas Eve
Alone on Christmas Eve
Across the Anacostia
Down the Pennsylvania
On the way to feed my daughter’s cats.
(Oh, my, those happy cats!)
Heading home.
Stopping by the supermarket.
Swedish meatballs.
Tradition. (On it goes)
Never a lonely meatball
In any setting sun.
Supermarket pink sky pink glass
Sparkling pink windows
In the setting sun
And a big stuffed moose
A Markdown Moose
A Sad Old Moose
Fuzzy brown and four feet high
Big felt antlers (bendable)
Standing
Canted sideways in the aisle
Stuffed
Sideways in the aisles,
The last of Christmas plush
Losing his dignity,
Canted sideways in the aisle
Alone
Marked down on Christmas Eve
But still. . . with faith. . .
He looks me in the eye.
Not a pink moose.
Not a sparkling moose
No shimmering rose moose.
No sunset moose.
No powerful moose.
Just Markdown Moose, canted in the aisles
Alone,
With faith,
On Christmas Eve
Oh, my, those Prime Discounts!
Markdown Moose,
Riding high
Rising high upon Shopping Cart
Gliding down the escalator
Riding High with Dignity
A King, Descending
(No rapists on the border, no)
(No spewing hate like green pus, no)
This Mighty Migrant Moose
Leaving Supermarketland
For Points Unknown
A refugee
Fleeing loss of dignity
Faith, the Migrant Moose
Faith, the DC Markdown Moose
Going home
Not alone
On Christmas Eve.
Last-minute shoppers laugh.
Markdown Migrant Moose
Riding high upon his shopping cart.
Aproned staff wave bye-bye
Cashiers salute
Applaud
His Curtain Call.
His Grand Exit.
Stage Left
Into the Parking Lot
Into the Chariot Kia
Migrant Moose
Looking out the window
Down the Pennsylvania
Last of the sunset Red Dome Pennsylvania
Riding loud and proud
Across the Anacostia
Blood Red Bridge Blood Red Birds
Across the Anacostia
Leaving DC
Not Alone on Christmas Eve.
Stoplights.
Sitting upright in the backseat
Staring frankly out the window
Smiling hard at stranger’s eyes
Nods to waving children
Applauds the passers-by
Waving to his minions from a
Balcony of stoplights.
Accolades of Christmas travelers:
Hats off to Faith!
Faith, The Markdown Moose!
Headlights behind me
On the highway.
Shocking
Backseat Antler Silhouette!
Kia Chariot rocks and rolls
Down MD Five
Me and my Markdown Moose
Me and my Christmas Moose
Me singing Jingle Bells
As loudly as I can.
Roll the windows down!
Let in the cold!
Belting Jingle Bells into the night
Drowning out the fear
Drowning out the hopelessness
Chaos and uncertainty
The hard times coming: Straight Ahead.
Louder, louder
Have yourself a Merry Little Faith Moose
Next year our troubles may not all be out of sight
They may not be miles away
They may be just over the Anacostia
Just down the Pennsylvania
Still. . .
I sing Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells
Jingle all the way
Oh, my, is that a furry voice from the back seat?
Deep base.
Sounds a little fuzzy.
Doing the Ho Ho Ho’s,
Backup to my chorus
I know
I cannot will away the bad times.
I know
I cannot stop what’s going to be.
I can
Have Faith that we can make it through
I can
Have Faith that somehow, truth prevails
Faith that if not joy,
freedom will, in the end, prevail
Perhaps I have seen the best in my lifetime
Perhaps the best is behind me
And not ahead.
But having seen the best of times
I wish them for my grandsons
And children everywhere
The sad the lonely
the hungry and the frightened
I wish for them my best of times
Even a slice of the best of times, a sparkling slice against the sunset sky
I wish, I will,
There is a sparkling sky ahead.
Some will stand and tell me No.
But Faith the Markdown Moose — he says it’s so.
Home.
Up the stairs.
Assumes his place of honor
Framed by my picture window
Me
And Mr. Cat
Writing a Christmas Poem about a Markdown Moose.
Silly old cat. Silly old goose.
I can hear it now.
Why? Why? The kids will ask.
Has Mom lost her mind?
Why would she buy
A fuzzy markdown moose
Four-foot moose with felt (bendable) antlers?
I’ll tell them why:
Driving across the Anacostia
I see beyond
The pink: The Blood Red Birds,
Leaving the river for parts unknown.
Down the Pennsylvania
I see beyond
The pink: The Blood Red Dome
Leading our country toward parts unknown.
Awash with fear and sadness
From the ever-present question:
Will this be the last good year?
Oh, my, no, I’ll tell them why:
Same reason I buy bulbs and plant them in the dead of winter.
I intend to see them bloom in early spring.
Same reason I plant tomatoes in the early spring.
I intend to eat them in the hot and sweaty days of August
I intend to have their juices running down my chin
In
The hot and muggy days of August.
I intend to be there.
Pick them. Eat them.
Sticky chin
Same as every year.
Bulbs. Basil. Markdown Moose
Hedge my bets.
Betting this is not the last Christmas.
And that next spring
I will see daffodils rise in the tree pits of Brooklyn
I will see ice cream trucks sprout like daffodils on every corner.
Bulbs. Basil. Moose.
Proof of faith.
Proof of hope. Proof.
We’ll see this chaos through
My grandsons will grow old and strong
Their backs will not be broken
Their hearts will not be savaged
And somehow peace prevails
This fragile peace prevails
Even if, maybe only, in the end,
Prevail.
For we have
Faith, the evidence of things not seen.
Sparkling faith, and sparkling pink,
And fuzzy brown
Across the Anacostia
And down the Pennsylvania
On Christmas Eve.
Cats are sleeping
Kids are calling
Moose is smiling
Santa’s on Norad
Fast approaching.
Pink dome sparkling.
Pink birds flying
High and sparkling in the sky
Sparkling across the Anacostia
Sparkling down the Pennsylvania.
On Christmas Eve.
I bought a Markdown Moose this year.
His name is Faith
And all is well.
And all is well.