moon

my 1970 bedsheet, my lot in the earth

is glowing unusually strong in the moon

it's beckoning me to lie down and observe

the burning cold light from within my cocoon

up there hangs the culprit, that reliable mass

with a colourful halo from the dirt on the glass

like the ring of a planet, out by that star

or what ive come to expect from a nebula

is it telling me "Oh how can you sleep?"

"There never was such a lovely night before"?

It's past one o'clock, a time when the deep

despair has scheduled a knock on my door

but how can I fall into a hole here and now?

when all the while i float in infinity?

to think that one day all will be gone — oh how

can that be anything but asininity

should I look upon this, think "Tomorrow, tomorrow"?

can I look upon this, yet find a point to my sorrow?

through the old child of earth i am linked to the past

joined by cavemen who i've never met

"And how happy I am to have found it at last!"

"There is nothing, nothing, but that."

12.01.2025