blob: 8e4b522a9c81cc6f3d50422b69f66cea49ec3963 (
plain)
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
|
---
title: On seeing the panorama of the Apollo 11 landing site
genre: verse
ekphrastic:
image: "img/panorama-apollo11.jpg"
title: "Big deal."
link: "http://apod.nasa.gov/apod/ap141220.html"
project:
title: Elegies for alternate selves
css: elegies
order: 5
next:
- title: Ars poetica
link: arspoetica
prev:
- title: And
link: and
...
So it's the [fucking moon][]. Big deal. As if \
you haven't seen it before, hanging in the sky \
like a piece of [rotten meat][] nailed to the wall,
a maudlin love letter (the i's dotted with [hearts][]) \
tacked to the sky's door like ninety-eight theses. \
Don't stare at it like it means anything.
Don't give it the chance to collect meaning \
from your hand like an old pigeon. Don't dare ascribe \
it a will, or call it fickle, or think it has any say
in your affairs. It's separated from your life \
by three hundred eighty-four thousand miles of space, \
the same distance you stepped away from time that night
you said your love was broken, a crippled gyroscope \
knocking in the dark. It was then that time fell apart, \
had a nervous breakdown and started following you
everywhere, moonfaced, always asking where you're going. \
You keep trying to get away from it but it nuzzles closer \
and sings you songs that sound like the cooing of a dove \
that will only escape again into an empty sky at dawn.
[fucking moon]: deathstrumpet.html
[rotten meat]: roughgloves.html
[hearts]: proverbs.html
|
