Summer Blues
Or, Where Terra Meets Celeste in Places I Have Loved
In this part of Utah
Pink and blue
In my part of Colorado
Blue and white
In my Minnesota prairie home
Green and gray
And intermittent endless blue.
Dear Editor,
Please find enclosed my submission of a rejection letter to replace the one you always send to me.
Your letter uses the word “unfortunately.”
(“Unfortunately, your poem has not been chosen. . .”)
Or something along that line
As if the gods were not with me
Or I didn’t choose the winning lottery number.
I submit the following:
Dear [Name],
Thank you for sending us your firstborn child.
Everyone here at the office is touched and amazed by her beauty –
The soft rounded rosebud lips
The sky-blue eyes
The tiny grasping fists.
Surely not another like her will ever come along again.
So you can imagine how honored we are
At your astonishing generosity
In sharing her with us.
But it’s simply too much – we can’t accept such a lavish gift.
With something so exquisite in our midst,
We would never get any work done!
Please accept our deep gratitude,
Our sincere apologies,
And our best wishes for your future with this unspeakable wonder
And all the dazzling beauties you have yet to produce.
Sincerely, etc.
Thank you for considering this submission.
I look forward to reading it on your stationery soon.
Sincerely, and so on.
And if you catch your heart’s desire,
What then?
It isn’t the chase that tires
And confounds you,
That saps your strength
Hour by relentless hour.
It is the captive embrace
In which you guard your prize
While you wonder, what next?
With your desire breathing in your arms
Begging for a drink from your well.
The following poem is reprinted with permission from the author.
Abraham
by Jason Mills
This is what you’ll do, your will decreed,
And I took him up the mountain, raised the blade,
Trusting that the slaughter met some need
Beyond the grasp of creatures you had made,
Proof of faith, if proof were not profane,
That chooses in submission to be blind,
Compelled to make these offerings of pain,
Refusing to believe them undesigned.
Yet not for you, to whom all things are known,
Who stayed my hand in sorrow more than joy;
I it was who needed to be shown
My eagerness to sacrifice the boy.
The falling axe made all mankind anew.
You wept, and whispered, This is what you’ll do.
You can find more of Jason’s work at http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/jasonatvitalspotdotf9dotcodotuk. He tells me he hasn’t “squeezed out enough poetry to be worth binding,” but hopefully for the world’s sake that will change! (I came across his work through Goodreads’ poetry group.)
It was waiting for me in my inbox.
“Unfortunately, I cannot obtain electronic copies of the Ocean, Warehouse or EPLI policy.
Here is the Package and Umbrella,
and a copy of the most recent schedule.
JAYNA Westbrook,”
The punctuation, capitalization, and line breaks
Are reproduced exactly as I found them
The italicized words
Were hyperlinks,
Paths I dared not follow,
Gateways to destruction.
I know these words are faux corporate-speak
But the random images
Distinguished with capitals
Deserve a moment before my eyes.
(Apparently my spam-assassin concurred.)
There truly was a comma after the surname
Leaving me hanging