by Erin Murphy
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| AI-generated image by imbox sanothai via Dreamstime |
“House Republican leaders on [March 11, 2025] quietly moved to shield their members from having to vote on whether to end President Trump’s tariffs… essentially [declaring] the rest of the year one long day.” —The New York Times
A day is not a day.
A night is not a night.
A star is not a star.
Sunrise is not sunrise.
Rain is not rain.
A robin is not a robin.
A song is not a song.
Darkness is not dark.
Reality is not real
and neither is steam
from a whistling teakettle
or the smell of fresh basil
on your fingers
hours after you make pesto
or the calligraphy
of hoof prints in virgin snow
or the neon cotton candy
of northern lights
in Zion National Park.
Hunger is not hunger.
A lie is not a lie.
A gun is not a gun.
Fear is not fear.
A deported neighbor
was never here at all,
never taught your son
to dribble a fútbol
in the alley between
your homes.
Silence is not silence.
A day is not a day.
A year is not a year.
A lifetime is not a life.
A kiss is just a kiss,
Dooley Wilson sang
in Casablanca.
But a kiss is not a kiss.
It didn’t lead to love
or lust, not even for
your parents which means,
of course, you don’t exist.
You could tell your analyst
but your analyst is not
an analyst. And no matter
what he says, a cigar
is not a cigar.
A poem is not a poem.
Ce n'est pas un poème.
A rose is not a rose is not
a rose is not a rose. We are
not who we think we are.
Erin Murphy’s latest book of poetry is Fluent in Blue (Grayson Books, 2024). She is professor of English at Penn State Altoona and serves as Poetry Editor of The Summerset Review.
