Monday
May 07, 2012
Still finding myself rushing the writing process... but getting better at slowing down. I need to take even MORE time, though.
Super Close
050512
The Moon was so close last night,
I swear, I could hear it breathing.
A slow rumbling sound it made like,
like garbage trucks make on trash
Friday.
And its breath smelled just as bad too,
a stench
similar to old fish wrapped in used toilet
paper
mixed with that sickening sweet scent newborn
babies
secrete, a stinky concoction of talcum
powder, urine
and the pungent blissfulness babies
feel from having
absolutely no responsibilities to
humankind whatsoever
other than eating, defecating and
screaming like Banshees.
But all that nastiness aside,
the Moon’s smile is just as bright
as that night we “did it”
on that worn-out blanket you stole
from your parent’s bedroom.
I wonder, did your mother ever figure
out what we were using it for?
I’m sure the Moon never told.
The Moon never tells anyone anything.
Except last night, I swear, she spoke
to me:
“Hey,
you should call that girl! You know,
the one you use’ta make
love to on that
ratty old Afghan... while I watched?”
rrw 5-6-12
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