Gerrymandering - after the photograph “North”
By Marjorie Maddox
From down here,
up there is
nowhere close to
click click there’s no place like
City Hall to haul your
cracked compass spinning,
spinning its shiny tin arrow, True North
a myth lost in the reshuffling
of district lines and Which way do the monkeys fly?
voting booths Pay no attention to yourself
behind the curtain. Or do that keep you looking
both ways, keep you crossing streets,
rivers, endless fields of deceptively sweet-
smelling poppies all the way
to the Emerald mirage you mistook
for your own backyard Toto, this isn’t
Pennsylvania anymore, the familiar still
in focus but slanted just enough
to help you see the unreal not paved
with yellow bricks, but the ordinary
cracked choices of Now, pointing someplace
not here, not home, not anywhere
close to the bright blue skies harboring
tomorrow’s tornadoes.
Marjorie Maddox mmaddoxh@lockhaven.edu
The poem and photo previously appeared in The Coop: A Poetry Collaborative.