Moonplum

a plum is a moon
the moon is a plum 
………………..
a plum sighed one night
while I was not dreaming
but by day was mute as twilight
in a black hole so could not be seen
or heard or smelt –could not be bit,
could not be felt
…………………….
in its nest of sight this mind-plum is white
or bloody red depending on the wind

in its nest of sound this mind-plum is round
or mis-shapen as the trumpet peal
a drunken Gabriel can’t recind

Juan Smith & Pocahantas knew this moon
in Jamestown as I did in N. J.
above and in the Hudson shimmering away

. . .

this moon is not that plum
this plum is not that moon

oh

what moon or plum is plucked
in orchards and by whom? 

. . .

Jesus from Oaxaca picks plums with Juan
and Sal, his sons, and wife Gloria
who are paid in disrespect by plum-suckers in Peoria

moons are plucked by seers, or poets  looking to get laid
plums are plucked by families in extremis  hoping to be paid

John Smith & Pocahantas are the stuff of myth
like mind moon-plums and immigrants
who offer special gifts

…………………….
Jim Culleny; May 2009
……………………….
……………………..

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