Lunacy

my usual state


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Lunacy
When the moon comes and splashes
its foot in me I reflect:
I’m relieved I can feel.
Though it’s a stretch it’s a start.
Every old soul I know feels stuck,
amid myriad escapes and phases.
Machines eclipse wisdom,
memories howl like bad teeth,
the rock and the hard place laugh
May I pass unscathed?
If all’s a dream, bind me--
I want to feel the moon more.
Second or first comings,
Apocalypse, advent, wax or wane.
So what?--it’s a world isn’t it?
with us in it.