Moon on the Train

(Get that Moon off the Seat)
part of the moon series

the speckled ground, the moon waits
for its destination somewhere between Madrid
and the mountains, listens to the electric hum
burning this worm across the rails north
and south, watches the reflection
in the windows dark of night, eats the skin
from its fingers and pulls a turquoise hood
over its swollen glowing face.

The gentle bumps, the creek of the roof,
the acceleration and slowing down,
the shaky hands and glowing orange lights
of cities on the horizon. The moon thinks
it is needed.

Thinks it should be there by eleven. Knows
there's only bus back and dreads the loss
of tomorrow. And though exhausted
from day, pushes an orange peel into the floor
with shoes caked in memories,
pulls out magazine and opens to photo
of tongues dancing in old western costume
in front of el castillo de la oreja.