Poem


the moon's less green than yellow
it has a plan a
chinese take-out menu
the sunday funnies

of course there were trees
fish skeletons a
few numbers grew among them a 4 &
blue beds & window-box coral & your hands

this is the plan
get a stupendous green car
drive past the sleeping halos into the sky-

gray sky to the door
of the house wearing a hat wishing it were a star
keep driving to the brink of day
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