Don't Listen to the Moon
the mules breath
staggers
as we approach
the shelter
of the devil
he counts his cash
on the way back
from the moon
and you can tell
me your future
from behind that
marvelous wig
& I'll listen & sleep too much
to sleep in the closet
with coathangers swaying
over my pillow
striped by my arms
becoming a street light shadow
longer than the colors of the moon
and all of the women
and all of the men
and all of the animals
living on the moon
riding in robotic chariots
across the bright plains,
holding their breath
in a suitcase
a ghost has stown away
in my suitcase
& i'm ready
to crawl upon the mattress
of lite
on your stomach
the last slice of bread
is between us
and there's only one more seat
in your lap
take it
yes take it
i'm trying to take up
the entire mattress
with dreams, heavy
as wet rollerskates