Featured Writer Claudia Serea

The moon, my brother, and I

The moon, my brother, and I
sit outside at the wooden table
covered with a white cloth
and drink wine and moonshine
from shiny tumblers.

And we figure out the Americans,
the Russians, the Romanians,
the EU,
and the Chinese.

We’re well-versed in this,
from decades behind the Iron Curtain.

We know all about special interests,
the military complex,
stolen revolutions,
the FSB,
the Mossad,
the CIA,
the nationalists,
and the globalists.

Pour me some more freedom,
baby brother.

Alcohol makes us understand more.
In its glaze, we see clearer
for a few brief moments
and agree:
We’re fucked.

And we sleep well tonight,
happy at least we get it,

until morning
when everything is different.


About the writer:
Claudia Serea’s poems have appeared in Field, New Letters, Prairie Schooner, and elsewhere. She has published five poetry collections, most recently TwoXism, a collaboration with photographer Maria Haro (8th House Publishing, 2018). Serea co-hosts The Williams Readings in Rutherford, NJ, and she is a founding editor of National Translation Month.

Image: The Crystal Ball by John William Waterhouse (1849-1917). Oil on canvas. 78.7 x 120.7 cm. 1902. Public domain.