
the moon jejune?
rough are the exteriors
its seams are where the dreams
get in
the interiors full of barbs
protecting the sweet potato red
soft monsters jelly delights
bright as the blistering moon
the moon jejune?
pellucid gelid & jealous
of the first ray the sun
too self-sufficient self-
sustaining to know a self-
reflexive nature
with no
natural light of its own

What I’m Reading:
“Every star
is an exploding mortar”
— Vicente Huidobro / “Equatorial”