Rhetorical optimism

a breeze and

shade

a sense of doom

under canopy of horror and

hope.

 

Everything seemed blue

the unclouded sky and

the storm

the wide ocean and

the narrow beach at sunrise

the bare of skin in

the moonlight

the white linen dress in

the black light.

 

Were we surrounded by it all along –

without noticing ?

Or, was it new,

and if so,

did it come with the talk of morning in America –

or with the chorus about us dying any day?

 

Maybe the gas gave the neon its blue glow, or

perhaps it was blue because we wanted it so –

to match

to belong

to compliment the mood of the age

because we longed to be in it

immersed

submerged and saturated

on Saturday nights

dancing the time away

unnerved and unknowing

kinetic

yet fixed

targets on a map

on a wall in

another blue room

far

far

away.

 

-Danny Grosso