Poem by the Indomitable Joan Logghe

Written for 100 Thousand Poets for Change reading at Ethyl the Whale

Our Lady of Sorrows Fiesta: Small Things

Even though the world is ending
I am fighting off frown lines
and even though there is no hope
I named my daughter Esperanza
and even though I hear the science
and the Artic ice calving and pipelines and penguins,

I teach poetry, the least useful most important thing
and even though I do not carry special knowledge,
I think of Pittsburgh, a man carrying THE END IS NEAR
sign in 1963 on Fifth Avenue, a small thing
as I walk to my ballroom dance class

and even though, I wipe carefully the counter
in case Buddha or the Messiah may arrive,
and with a jar liberate the wasps and spiders
so they might live long and prosper, small things
and though there is storm surge
I put on jewelry, small things

And if it were happening to my house,
if my child were swept away, if then, what
and always I dislike people saying
“That is a First World problem,” because usually it is
and though the earth is swallowing its children,
I gave birth three times, and though my grandchildren’s

have five hearts, I tilt my head so my double chin
won’t show on FaceTime, and though we are dying
of unnatural causes, I laugh, as the comedians are prophets
and I’m playing those Leonard Cohen songs of a Saturday,
even though I take a petrol Sabbath, small things
and let the world come to me bearing its beauty.
I walk the razor’s edge between dark and light
the beauty way. Life on the narrow edge
we go on living in the even so.
September 2019

Photo by Elizabeth Jacobson