(part of the moon series)
It’s like cutting the strings tied to your finger tips
slowly pulling you along the road,
you spin and you turn
and you can’t remember where you were going
or you can’t forget or you just bumble along
slightly nauseated, reeling from disconnection.
When it stops there’s a moment
when you feel like you’re moving perfectly
in rhythm with the natural plan
and you look up at the yellow, almost full moon
smiling and the future vanishes
as if it never had a namee
and then you feel the money in your pocket
and the telephone rings.
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