Sunday, 11 October 2020


by Cynthia Anderson

Once a psychic named Reverend Johnnie
told me I’m a native of Planet Earth—
that my very first incarnation was here,

500,000 years ago. He was delightfully insane.
He told my friends Martians would come
for them within a year and initiate them

into ancient mysteries. It became
our favorite joke—“Where’s that
spaceship? You’re still here?!”

Reverend Johnnie wove his cosmic tales
with such enthusiasm, you wanted
to believe him. He seemed to be

saying, There's a way out.
All the things about your life
you don't like can be explained.

Maybe you feel like running away.
Maybe you feel like staying put.
Either way, it's glamorous!

Beautiful! Bigger than you know!
As for me, and this great love
I have for everything I see—

I belong here. I’m a native.

* * * * *

Cynthia Anderson lives in the Mojave Desert near Joshua Tree National Park. Her poems have appeared in numerous journals, and she is a Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net nominee. She has authored nine collections and co-edited the anthology A Bird Black As the Sun: California Poets on Crows & Ravens. Recently she guest edited Cholla Needles 46, which is available on Amazon.

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