Poem of the Month
The Kingdom Is

By Mia Anderson

Published on September 1, 2014

The kingdom
is up to you. Like
the manette

the cashier hands you
at the grocer’s — “your turn”;
“c’est à vous.

Gens du pays,
c’est votre tour
we sing and it comes

to the same thing
does the kingdom: room
de vous laisser

parler d’amour.
Stepping into love
is up to you.

The manette is in your hand,
the kingdom. Punch in.
Here it comes —

never so simple
never yet refused!
There’s room, the debit paid

you know not how.
Oh, you know the dark fires

and you know they are quenched:
your dark fires, your own, your wrath

by the simple act of
punching in your identity —
admitting. “This is me.”

You’re in.
That’s how the kingdom
works.

More Poetry

Press

Indeed you miss the point, my friend. It does stand stubbornly guarding mile after mile of soft and useless dust and wind out of the north with a low whine and the lying mouth of the news— the bitch!—the words and weather both are cutting.

Familiar Hours

Its steady hands reckoning our course around the face of time make me uneasily aware of my mortality and yours. From vague gazes and half-finished sentences the humming of our travel clock coaxes us to parables, morals, cautionary tales.

Portrait of a Boy as Mist

A boy awoke to watch the wind blow his parents' weathervane relationship, leaving him in a fog. I changed ...