Mar 2, 2010

Moon Out of Control

(from the moon series)

I thought that it was figured out.
I thought I could rest easy. I thought
I could lay back and let the moon do its job.

I slept easier and I wrote a lot
and I enjoyed drinks in a bar one night
with some Spanish friends.

I walked home with a smile.
The world just revolved and revolved
and didn't mention anything.

I should have known better. I should
have talked to a psychologist. I thought
it was over. And then one night

there were trees lining the dirt path.
The stars flashed through the leaves
blown by the wind. And I thought

this is a perfect autumn night. I looked
up for the moon where it sits at the beginning
of the month and it was gone.

Just the ghost print of a crescent,
fading. And I thought,
that moon is out of control.

Laughing Moon

(from the moon series)

in the morning
when the silence still as water
on a windless day
masks the mood.

Glass Half Moon

(from the moon series)

on the table. Waits.
Eases into form.
Opens eyes. Closes eyes.
Doesn't want to know the truth.
Knows the truth. Braces.

Feels the grasp of a hand,
the softness of lips,
the delicate oak table,
the return to equilibrium.
Time passes.

Dreams at night of the end,
of the beginning. Which is which?
The mouths, the tails.
The hand that feeds..
the monster?

The clock winds along, red sand
drips through the eye.
The questions mount.
The dust collects.
Pretty soon

glass half moon
turns back to ocean.
Shrugs shoulders.
Becomes cliche
on the tongue of eternity

George Michael Moon

(from the moon series)

misses the party in a foreign country.
Accumulates broken friendships.
Looks back to the past and sees one dead
end here, one crumbling bridge there,

tire fires and a mountain of empty vessels
thrown to the wayside. Wishes

for a magic finger. Tires of doing life's work
alone. Wants someone to dress up with
and burn the town. Eats habitually and runs
calle de la reina. Watches reflection

through the trees, the fame and the glory
too much, too heavy to carry all the way,

too round and full to be seen in public.
The regrets, oh the regrets and the jealousy
of a true legend come crashing down. The weight
of the universe and one night in Beverly Hills.

Mad Moon Over Mehringdamm

It was the whisper behind your words, after being scared shitless by the description of the eight of cups, that triggered the vanishing of o...