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      March 17, 2021Survival Is a Matter of Perspective WhenChaun Ballard

      We step four feet onto pavement
      my wife & I
      confident in what we know
      will be
      a good jog
      to air out whatever it is the robins sing—
      With each breath
      the runner before us
      turns
      torn
      then retreats back
      in failure
      the length
      of the sidewalk—
      On our right
      a moose comes into frame
      Maybe a yearling
      perhaps the same from May 15
      abandoned almost instinctually
      by its mother
      in preparation for her newborn—
      The moose has aged into tree trunk
      a UPS delivery truck
      in fur
      tall enough to raise its head
      from the ground
      over the seven-foot wooden fence
      Who says Good fences make good neighbors? 
      How I relish this
      Wish it became more
      than a proverb
      applicable
      in all situations
      But the truth is
      what holds beautiful
      in one context
      does not hold beautiful
      when misused
      in another
      For example
      There are only a few bad apples
      for some
      implies
      that if you purchase a bushel
      identify the bad ones
      remove a few rotten Haralsons
      there is no great loss
      In essence
      the others may be salvaged—
      But what if the few bad apples were identifiably pilots
      joked Chris Rock
      What if the airlines said
      We have a few “bad apples” 
      pilots that like to crash into mountains— 
      Please bear with us—? 
      Would you
      bear with them?
      See how the fence changes
      See how the moose remains there
      across the street
      like the only tree
      absent of flowers
      & fruit
      See how its shade of tree trunk bears none—
      Bad apples 
      Who took you out of context?
      Who bruised you
      into new proverb
      when we know one bad apple spoils the bunch? 
      Now see how the moose turns
      to look at us
      & we turn into statues
      Now
      it no longer sees another woman
      in her sunglasses
      gliding along its path
      & my God
      it is such a beautiful day
      We all should stay
      safe from such tragedy
      to have our moment a while longer
      in the sun
      like a branch of apple blossoms
      before descending red globes
      In Alaska
      we call this June 4
      &
      Thursday
      Now / see / how everything / slows / down / after all the build-up: / the moose— / the woman—when all you want to hear / is / what happens / because you now have a picture / that is not unlike a passenger train / with joy-filled faces / who wave at the locals in each town / & crossing / Each beautiful mile / peaceful / hands raised in solidarity / to a window— / & see how I have said nothing of metaphor / outright / I have said nothing of police / nor their view from a riot-proof frame— / See how / this is the first time I mention / riot / when I mention / police / This is called / rhetoric— / 
      &
      the moose does not see the woman
      on her bike
      as we see the woman
      on her bike:
      a blissful train approaching
      from the opposite end of the same track
      &
      no one has to tell you
      who lives—
      &
      it is such a beautiful day
      &
      the sun is where it should be
      &
      the breeze is light
      &
      pleasant
      &
      I am trying to hold onto the moment
      a while longer
      for the woman’s sake
      but repetition is impending
      &
      the ampersand is causing tension
      evoking a response
      but even an emotional response
      is situational
      because repetition
      is a rhetorical device
      &
      because this is a poem
      it has the power to delay
      but not to build a fence
      nor resolve the situation that will end
      in the body of the poem—
      which means
      repetition does not forewarn in every situation—
      which means
      if you look like the woman
      you keep riding your bike
      toward danger
      with your eyes
      on the interracial couple
      If you are a moose
      you are still looking at the threat
      for a positive ID
      &
      if we yell
      MOOSE!
      several times
      neither of the two will see the other
      The moose will deem us threat
      The woman may think argument
      &
      if she sees the moose
      before it is too late
      she may turn around
      In Alaska
      a moose attacks when it feels threatened
      A bike rider rides their bike
      because it is summer
      When you think of repetition
      what comes to mind?
      In most communities
      if you look like me
      innercity
      in contrast
      to a picket fence
      the woman calls the police
      She calls the police 
      She calls the police 
      if she survives
      Perhaps half
      of a whole couple
      runs
             out of time

      from #70 - Winter 2020

      Chaun Ballard

      “No one was harmed during the writing of this poem. The woman on her bike lived, just barely missing the kick from the moose’s hind legs. As she passed us, she said, ‘Oh! I was wondering what was going on.’ I remember being stunned, wondering what she thought we were shouting about and gesturing for if not for her safety. Around this same time, in Anchorage, a Black man jogging was questioned about his presence in the neighborhood close to his home. The recording aired on our local news, and the community came together to host a jog in his support. This Anchorage incident came not too long after the murders of Ahmaud Arbery and George Floyd. In the context of our country’s movement against racism, the whole event felt surreal. I, of course, am grateful to be here to tell the tale.”