Gregg Mosson is author of a book of nature poetry Season of Flowers and Dust (Goose River Press), and edits the annual journal Poems Against War, including the most recent volume Poems Against War: Music & Heroes (Wasteland Press 2007). His commentary and poetry have appeared in The Cincinnati Review, The Baltimore Review, The Baltimore Sun, Loch Raven Review, Poet’s Ink, and other places. He has an MA from the Johns Hopkins Writing Seminars, where he was a teaching fellow and lecturer. In 2008, he received grants for his work from The Puffin Foundation and Baltimore Office of Promotion & The Arts. If you dare, seek more at www.greggmosson.com.
Fall 2008
Table of Contents - Vol. IV, No. 3
Poetry Translations Fiction Essays
Gregg Mosson
Churning the world into garbage, skimming
off the top, siphoning crème de la crème into communities,
commerce processes us, though the gears go slower, like a Ferris wheel
everyone clings to, even though most are beyond
three feet tall. We should be doing something better, more adult, but
sit here, while the wheel slows—in fact it stopped long ago—and feet dangle,
millions of idle feet
letting their shoes drop.
The minimal—like a banner—
greets commuters at subway stations, waves
over the capital, is bunting behind the candidate
as she speaks, appears as a T-shirt logo
on some dude sipping a soft drink.
Fists squeeze satisfaction out of lattes, from whizzing past
cars on the expressway, by getting in line
first.
Old song—how did you come to this?
Today the refrain is "too late,
off to work now, I can't wait
until dinner."
© Gregg Mosson
