All've It by Matt Moberg

i tried a reader's theater group tonight for the first time!  there were 8 of us and we read through parts of "rumors", a play by neil simon.  i was nervous at first, being a newcomer amid such seasoned actors and actresses, but they made me feel right at home and we had such fun together.

first we warmed up by taking turns reading a long poem.  it's not everyday you discover such poignancy.  in honor of my favorite season of autumn, i've decided to type it out in segments for you.  if you'd to read all've it, ha ha, at once, you're welcome to look it up and do so, of course.  

i think every human being 

eventually has a moment

where they are standing outside in sweatpants

that have lost the will to be pants,

holding a trash bag, a divorce, a parking ticket,

or some other receipt from the universe

that says, "surprise, this too is part of it."

 

and then the sky bruises purple.

 

and the air touches your face

like it knows your whole story.

 

and suddenly you realize:

 

all the real is actually unreal.

 

the dirt.

the breath.

the weird little bones in your hands.

the fact that we are here,

on a floating rock with pollen counts,

paying bills,

missing dead people

loving living people

who say "leaving now"

while still fully naked and looking for socks.

 

and still,

the moon clocks in.

 

no applause.

no benefits.

no note from management saying,

"great work being ancient and luminous again."

 

just the moon,

working nights

like a single mother with no applause,

packing silver lunches

for every dark thing

that still has to rise

 

...to be continued...