GOODNIGHT, MOON
Floppy-eared,
I look through the skylight: the moon!
Like Mommy,
I’ll be pushing up daisies soon.
Like Daddy, too,
If you really want to know …
My mush … my comb … my spoon …
All in a row.
I think about the toys with which I’ve played …
Mostly boys.
The things I’d do to get laid!
The panic of childhood … the botched adolescence …
Oh man.
And then, of course,
The Games of “Adulthood” began,
With prizes! Gold, silver, and booby!—
Though not from these bunny lips
The catalogue of failures,
Like Homer’s ships.
Enough.
My bed,
My little lamp,
The soothing light …
Now I lay me down—
Are you there?—
Goodnight.
—from Rattle #33, Summer 2010
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John Harris: “Writing as a bunny rabbit in striped pajamas was not too big a stretch for me … what was interesting was the idea of a middle-aged bunny thinking about his life. That snuggly world of children’s books bumping up against memories that aren’t so snuggly.”
