This artist was commissioned to mosaic the moon.
She wanted to use the parachute
cloth method. She ordered all the ceramic
tiles. They filled up texas. She ordered
the high tech glue. It filled up the grand canyon.
She ordered the parachute cloth and wrapped
the north and south pole up
like bandages.
Then she assembled a team. I was on the team.
We trained for years. When we were finally ready
to go, the government pulled the plug
on arts funding for the world. They wanted to focus
on math and science, they said. But the artist said,
Screw it. We’ll do it anyway. We worked
for a lifetime. When the artist died, it broke her
heart. It broke all of our hearts. But her daughter
continued the work. Her daughter worked faster
than her mother ever did.
We used tile cutters and grout. I forgot
the grout. It was funneled out of Alaska.
There were all different color tiles.
There were stripes, avocado, dots, spirals,
and lilacs. And there were mirror
tiles. Those were the best.
When the moon was ninety percent
mosaiced, there was a critical mass
on earth. The children on Iowa cornfield
farm towns watched the moon
rise like an aztec mirror disco ball
in the blueberry sky and they danced
in the silence of the wind.
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