Sketches With Moondrops
Part One: The shoe that never stepped
i first thought the moon was made of cheese
innocent mice or whomever they may be
coiled up at breakfast and my sisters all ready
for school in blood red jumpers
just leaving and the mice whistling
for hours and hours and hours
after they’d gone
and then the moon was all Water tide and fury
ebbs, tributatries , bogs, tsunamis, the scope of ages
and us ancient pagans in our saurine aeon
dismiss the flashes flushing by our shores
as sailors forever floating but never truly dead
and when the moon winked that summer
i was maybe 11 and refused to wear sunglasses
(having being born cockeyed and been through many bad years of patches, surgeries, drops and milky bar kid jokes I was fucking done with any kind of glasses. Okay.)
even though apparently the ‘UV’s or whatever they were deciding to call it back in 199whatever were harmful but my Grandad insisted that so too were doctors.
And he was a very clever man.
Part Two: Sungazing Built The Pyramids
Stigmata! The film I had watched that morning sounded
a whole lot less dramatic than mild cornea damage
so I legged it down the slim pathway militarily sidestepping the 9 million or so
dogs we had at the time and stood at such an angle
that only a sneakily little 11 year old shithead could make work
When the lid – that’s my first thought, its like a lid coming over the top CLOSING US ALL IN!
i immediately panicked and started wailing ‘What about the air?’
Shortly after, something amazing happened.
i glared wide-eyed, stared this thing straight down, and it did not feel 93 million miles away. Here it was here. In my garden of dogs, inside my forehead. My sister screamed.
- The next day I put my two hands through a pane of glass out in that same backgarden and lost close to 1\2 liter of blood. The stain remained visible for years after.
It was the first blood ritual I had been to where no one person was involved