Susan Seubert © 2026

 

                      by John Bradley


 

Jeanne Moreau, Long Ago


I once owned a white silk scarf that I was told had been worn by Jeanne Moreau.  I gave it to a woman who had never heard of Moreau, but who let me call her Jeanne, when no one was around.  She had a black cat who would hiss when I tried to kiss this Jeanne Moreau.  Washing her face at night, she stared hard into the mirror, and could see, she told me, ants swarming an apple core, consuming their dying planet.  Ants bearing the names of various soils, rocks, roots of all kinds, as well as great winds, small rivers, and metal wheels.  Then she saw a man in shabby pants feeding a coyote stale dinner rolls, rolling them one after another before the coyote’s jaws.  Each roll swallowed whole.  She saw a woman who bicycled around town with a black cat in a wicker basket on the front of the bike.  When she stopped at a red light, the cat blinked its gold eyes, and the light changed.  I don’t know what happened to Jeanne Moreau’s white scarf, or the woman I gave it to, long ago.  Surely, she has better things to do than read this accidental poem somewhere and wonder.  And remember.  Great winds, small rivers, metal wheels.

Simulacrum Moon


This was recorded during the ongoing sleep experiment with subject AR29556 exactly as uttered: Simulacrum moon, should you kill.  There was no prior or subsequent utterance during this sleep session.  No other sound of any kind could be heard. In the debriefing session, the subject remained unable to offer any illumination on the utterance other than to report the memory of a book with lettering made with twigs or perhaps rough matchsticks. When prompted with the words simulacrum and moon, both separately and together, the only associations the subject could offer was a microwave tower in a sunflower field.  When the subject filled out the required forms and was about to exit, they turned back and said: I used to be an altar boy, you know.  So that phrase simulacrum moon, well, it reminds me of a communion host.  Up in the sky.  But, I don’t know.  More sleep research obviously needs to be done with the subject as soon as possible in order to better ascertain any possible sociopolitical repercussions in the immediate future.

 

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John Bradley's most recent book is As Blood Is the Fruit of the Heart: A Book of Spells (Dos Madres Press).  His chapbook Planetary Sway: Aphorisms for the Everyday Emergency (Bottlecap Press) is forthcoming.