the moon is fogging up tonight,
coffee stained and shadowed
eclipse
we are skinny girls beneath it
hopping around on damp ground
carefully avoiding the ants
and cooing like birds
staring up at this monstrosity
we are so small
and though the moon is far away in that sea of space
and our world so massive and round
it is the same distance
to six billion people
who choose to look up at the sky
tonight.
the moon is fogging up tonight.

today i witness a child's first encounter with death.
cheeks rosy, i am winding the spider's web
out of yarn
to look more festive
so no one will know that my family
doesn't so much like this stuff
anymore
nearby
a car had been hit by a squirrel
and the rodent was smeared across pavement
they are so much smaller than cars
not a fair fight.

a little girl dressed as a lion happens by with her parent and siblings
and sees this painting on the street.
she stares
and stares
and stares
almost half a block away, she is remembered
by her mother
who drags her away
and the little girl still stares down at the street
she does not know why this squirrel is not
running away
like all the others
and she wonders if its real
at all
and if squirrels
like jam
because this one is sure covered in it.
she does not tell her mother.
it is a secret that she and i share.
the moon is fogging up tonight.

the ground is wet
and we are strangely alive tonight
white lace stockings and open shirts with
sun tattoos
frost bitten
but we cannot feel the cold.
my cinnamon boy
and chumpa lagging behind
dancing through the street
in a
stark street strut
saving lives
and escape-ing from
suicide girls
and metal ballerinas
and a funeral march laced with
techno
to find solace
on a crowded street full of costumes
one fake world to the next
but somehow one is more real
giving tight hugs goodbye
reminds me people really aren't so bad.
sweet cinnamon boy
dances when he walks
like me.
where is the moon tonight?

my mind is coffee stained and
shadowed
tonight
meaningless words on white backgrounds
and clicking of plastic keys
serve the purpose of my distraction
of skinny boys in black kitchens
concoctions from the spice cabinet
rose tea
a funny tasting broth
kissing my hand as i leave
and my staying a subsequent extra
hours.
forgetting brazil
and sofas
and plays
if only just for a minute.
the moon is fogging up tonight.