SUPER MOON
Husband, we are on the backroads
of rural Oklahoma because Google told me
tonight will be a super moon.
The dirt here is red & caked
& even the cows seem to suspect
we don’t belong––lean against
their fences as we rattle by
spitting clumps & rocks & clay
in our tires’ wake. Dust can say little
about direction or intent but everything
about speed. We are moving too slowly.
You told me yesterday you worry
about growing old—which means
you are worrying about time
& how we will fit everything
in that we want. I am not
sure how to make enough time for you
so I give you a blow job instead
pull you inside & swallow. The moon
is rising now against the sky’s throat
—round & fat & almost audible
& this is what we came to see.
I can imagine the pain of this birth
—opening across the sky for anyone
to watch. Hoping for a kind of witness.
Roseanna Alice Boswell is a queer poet from Upstate New York. Her work has appeared or will soon appear in: Driftwood Press, Jarfly Magazine, Capulet Magazine, and elsewhere. Roseanna holds an MFA from Bowling Green State University, and is the creator of Bunny Zine Press. She is currently a PhD candidate in English at Oklahoma State University. Her first collection, Hiding in a Thimble, is forthcoming with Haverthorn Press. Find her on Twitter @swellbunny posting about feminism and her love of exclamation marks.
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