A poem for the anniversary of the first landing on the moon, revised from my book Changing Place, Fiddlehead Books.

Walking on the Moon
in Moulay Ibrahim
by Penn Kemp


We have landed
they tell us
in the centre for all Morocco

of magic
& the old ways
high in the Atlas mountains....

We have heard this.

What we have not heard or seen
happens for the first time
today via the one TV in the one cafe:

Apollo astronauts land on the moon
& high-step in slow motion, gawky
in grey scale.

"Ha!" says Omar. "What a stunt.
Those Americans are so clever.

But we know. Moroccans
are not easily tricked. This
is a fiction to entertain the people.

Quelle blague." He pretends to toss
a rock off the dusty floor at the screen.

The crowd in the cafe laugh
at the outlandish gear, the preposterous
instrument & helmet gimmicks
clumsier than any cartoon.

Still scoffing, the moon men jostle outside
& hidden in hooded dun djellabas
melt into the lunar dusk of their grey plateau.


Penn Kemp

July 20, 1969, revised July 18, 2004