The Moon Jelly
by Erin Mizrahi
Have I already broken a promise
What do I know about life underwater
On the radio they’re talking about Ana Mendieta &
what’s his name & asking that old question again
can we can separate the art from the artist
I think not
In another life, I was so very employable
In a yet other life I waited for the
azaleas to bloom & the momentum
to leave
A group of jellyfish is a bloom
For $200 a scoop you can eat light
I mean glow in the dark jellyfish ice cream
Fresh moon jellies taste like an
oyster disappearing on your tongue
There are so many things I wish I didn’t know
I wish the soft animal of my body
would not click on shocking
celebrity age gaps or eight foods to
avoid during solstice if you’re trying
to become the animal you’re trying
to become
If you slice a moon jelly in two
it will become two moon jellies
They possess the power of regeneration
They can actually [insert Cher voice]
turn back time
I have grown a new organ, once
This is not the same
I take my mom to the ER & learn
it’s at least five hours to triage
There is nowhere else to go & we wait
I wonder how long it takes for moon
jellies to regenerate & if they keep
each other company while they heal
I thought I would have more life skills by now
Moon jellies are harmless
You can pick them up by their backs
a bowl of smoothed light
The Jellyfish Review is a bit misleading
it has nothing to do with jellyfish
Cobra Milk is also quite misleading
At my uncle’s funeral they release
a dozen white doves which are
white pigeons but nobody likes pigeons
so they just say they are doves
These are unprecedented times
At a gala I tell George Lukas about my dissertation when I should tell him about the screenplay I wrote when I was eight years old titled Jellyfish: The Worst Nightmare where a jellyfish exposed to toxic waste survives on land because of its mutations & it glides into people’s bathtubs because it missed being cradled by water & the water makes it grow & it wants friends but has none & someone was startled seeing it take a bubble bath & decided to name it Eugene & it liked the name Eugene & it wanted to live a good & simple life but it couldn’t stop growing & its tentacles were miles long at first & then light years & how from the next galaxy over it must have looked like a giant braid made of stars & light shaking loose the world & how helpless we are when we love
Erin Mizrahi is a Pushcart nominated poet, educator and co-founder of the literary and arts journal, Cobra Milk. A recipient of fellowships from Asylum Arts and The Institute for Jewish Creativity, their writing has appeared or is forthcoming in Bending Genres, Sonora Review, Rogue Agent, Gasher Journal and elsewhere. Their collaborative micro-chap If We Break, Where We Break, How We Break is forthcoming with Ghost City Press.