Willow Oh Willow Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

skip the production number with the willow trees

the part where the poets swallow fire

in order to be viable in the Roman circus

several generations later.

reroute all messages to the equator

that the sun may dry them up

and implicate no one, nothing

for we are not on the same page

in any district.

And really, why would we want to be

we are not in the first grade.

how shall I sing with a throat full of sparrows

when with the first breath

the jackals will destroy them.

how will I praise like Rilke the laments

when you have sent them all away

and everyone wears the same smile the same day

in favor of the ticker tape parades

the gentlemen hoisted on the shoulders of thieves.

leave this out.

and say that the bones mended.

that fortresses were upended.

say anything you like at all

to make the populace feel small

that propaganda may go on

even if poetry doesn't.

that there may be screaming instead of song

that there may be chaos again

so that God can find the heart to start over.


mary angela douglas 16 april 2020