2 September 2004 | Vol. 4, No. 3

Useless Song

Wake up 5 a.m. & the prairie is raining

white birds. The moon appears. The moon

circles the sky. My mouth is a dead lamp

looking for its light. The river is a tape loop

saying goodbye. The moon is dead. The moon

is dead, is dead. Maybe I am now about to die

the death of endeavor. Maybe I am about to discover

pleasure. Maybe. This is not exactly what I mean

anymore than the sun is the sun. I keep dreaming

about men. It is not sad or I would laugh.

With the mind goes a world, with the heart

goes the weather. What progress after the hawk?

Rabbit, rabbit in the dark of the moon. Dogs dream

a scent, but nothing is quicker

than prey.

About the author:

Juliet Patterson's poems have appeared in Verse, Conduit, The Journal, DIAGRAM, and other publications. She lives in Minneapolis. Her favorite color is red. You can reach her at .

For further reading:

See the complete list of work by Juliet Patterson at 42opus. Browse the contents of 42opus Vol. 4, No. 3, where "Useless Song" ran on September 2, 2004. List other work with these same labels: poetry.

42opus is an online magazine of the literary arts.

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