John C. Mannone | The moon was fazed

I used to pray to the dark
And empty space until I saw
A sliver of hope among the stars

I’d call out to the man in the moon,
Where has my lady gone? But he just
Winked at me with his banana-wide smile

Every night I asked him again, but
His smile grew into fat glares, surely
He tired of my incessant question

After two weeks, he was full of it
And couldn’t stand it any longer
So he began to shrink away

And in another two weeks, was gone
With nothing new to say—I suppose
He was rueful, but not as much as I

—

John C. Mannone has work in Blue Fifth Review, New England Journal of Medicine, Peacock Journal, Gyroscope Review, Baltimore Review, Pedestal, Pirene’s Fountain, Event Horizon, Eye To The Telescope and others. He’s the winner of the 2017 Jean Ritchie Fellowship in Appalachian literature and the recipient of two Weymouth writing residencies. He has three poetry collections: Apocalypse (Alban Lake Publishing), nominated for the 2017 Elgin Book Award; Disabled Monsters (The Linnet’s Wings Press) featured at the 2016 Southern Festival of Books; and Flux Lines (Celtic Cat Publishing). He’s been awarded two Joy Margrave Awards for Nonfiction and nominated for several Pushcart, Rhysling, and Best of the Net awards. He edits poetry for Abyss & Apex and other venues. He’s professor of physics near Knoxville, TN. http://jcmannone.wordpress.com