CHRISTMAS
I’m at the mall with my wife and daughter.
They’re shopping.
It’s what they’re supposed to do.
I’m drinking coffee and reading The Nation.
It’s what I’m supposed to do.
It came in the mail today.
This was felicitous.
I needed something to do at the mall.
I read the poem, “To Tell of Bodies Changed” by Jana Prikryl.
How do you pronounce that?
The first half was really fine.
I read it again.
I nodded in approval.
The second half was incomprehensible.
I read it again.
I shook my head in disapproval.
I wasn’t surprised.
The Nation likes poetry editors who favor incomprehensibility.
There’s a line of kids.
They’re going to get their pictures taken on Santa’s lap.
I wish I were a kid again.
I wish I could sit on Santa’s lap.
I’d wish for what I’d want.
To be a poet.
To be in The Nation.
To be famous.
To be incomprehensible.
To be half incomprehensible.
ABOUT THE ARTIST
Nominated for the National Book Award, the Eric Hoffer Book Award, and nominated three times for the Pulitzer Prize, J.R. Solonche is the author of 40 books of poetry and coauthor of another. He lives in the Hudson Valley.
Image created on Magic Studio
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