Libration Of The Moon

Libration Of The Moon long poem

Photo by jbcurio


Every morning the moon will have regurgitated
another piece of my sanity

you’re thinking this will be another werewolf poem
American raving lunatic pouncing
upon unsuspecting prey when shadows are in highest contrast
gutting and gorging on the men
sniffing around the women
before dipping under their skirts
snuffling at their hidden notches
then gutting and gorging on them as well

I can’t tell you what I did last night
there was no blood or skin under my nails
but my ankles were dirty
and there were three brassy feathers in the cuff of my khakis
I’d gone out drinking
intent on an antique kind of drunk
Dubonnet and lemonade at the golf course bar
by the Seattle Slough after nine PM
the smooth mown grass gone gunmetal
all the way up to the fifteenth tee
but what was it on the side of that hill howling at me
why do I know the scent of windfall apples
and discarded fried food in the rubbish bin
that dogleg left with its elevated green
all alone aside from the rubberized hum
of lonely traffic whizzing away home

there is no hunger left in me today
late in bed and quasi asleep
men and women done up for a night on the town
passing back and forth like fish in a tank
I could touch them if I could move
prove they are as consequential as the thick black hairs
growing out of the pentagram burnt into my right palm

a quarter million miles away
that rocky empty head shimmies
like a chubby kid working a hula hoop
I will be a happy man until the height of the black
until my satiety comes into question
my sanity gets nibbled away
by the mouse of doubt
howling out of the green cheese moon
reminding me I have a thirst for blood in my blood

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GlenDodge

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a poet from Seattle Washington USA. His poetry has appeared in print in publications such as Bellowing Ark, Point Nopoint, and most recently in Contraposition magazine. When not writing poetry he is a Human Resources professional, a repentant glutton, and a novelist specializing in the weird-fiction genre.
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