Moon clobbers everything;
is
nothing we think even real?
Our auras adjust like a hand
at a
party where
Everyone seems an extension,
everything
seems within reach
Of that old capricious heart that needs
it
just so, not too close,
Never far, we know how it is, exactly,
we have
lived it,
No matter how removed or concocted
it seems, we
can relate!
Oh the powers we have, to imagine
the
powers we have
And make them snug as a wet suit.
They’re
waiting for us now
To fall into their lap, with their pics
of pizza
and 9-year-old beagles,
Smiling like we
belong there,
and the quotes that they steal
Seem made for us in that moment,
Who are on a first name basis
With presidents, date A-list royalty
exclusively, know every ancient
land
And every plot twist intimately, as if we
could sense any trap.
There’s no distinction between what we hear
and
what they are saying,
Though the tapes, when they’re played back
never
validate our faith,
There is only a hiss, as if we were never alive.
We’ll
call it the still voice of yes.
