The moon’s light was
Smudged to a glow
Ploughed into the
Finger painted clouds.
I drive with the headlights off
On a black cat night;
The moon felt like a magnet
I could not be stopped by traffic lights.
The street lights
Bake my eyes.
The headlights
Grill my head.
The cheesy white dot
In the pool of coke-like sky,
Doesn't need battery
Or electricity
With their glazed eyes
They still honk the car horn.
Impatient with my improper driving
Because they don’t look at the moon
They’re caught up
In advertising lunar eclipses
It’s disgusting how
They videotape the moon
When it hides
No comments:
Post a Comment