Month: July 2010

If The Moon Wrote An Ode To Your Luggage:

…this is an ode to your luggage.
and the way you consistently stuff it.

with pressed shirts and trousers. and minty
foot powder. and all a world traveler might need
for the shower.

you skip all the extras. yet step out
in style. as you glide through the skies
on your platinum miles.

you’ll never pay fees. or stand
in a queue. because all that you need’s carried
on with you. and it slides so discreetly. right under
the seat-y. holding costumes, stilettos and
eyelash glue.

always there at your heels,
wherever you tug it. until
into the overhead bin you tuck it:

your luggage

what’s in half a moon,
moon? what’s in half a thought?
what’s in half a fairy tale? a girl, a
boy, a plot?

who says the ending’s the end of
things? who says the beginning’s not?
who says a kiss should be anything more
than a place that time forgot?

who says a question
needs answers? why must a clue
be true? and who says it wouldn’t be silly
moon, not to wish on you?

white chocolate dipped in dark chocolate
moon. better watch out.
we’ll eat you.

we really did relish the relish
moon. the pickles and sauerkraut too.
brown mustard, green peppers and
garlic salt, followed by Guinness
and chew.

now we’ve got a bit
of a tummy ache, and we’re tryin
to settle a row.

(Jane claims it’s the foot-long hot dogs)
(Jim wants to blame it on you)

(Frank ate two)

fallin right outta the sky
moon. stick you back up
with Gorilla Glue.

throw lucky horseshoes. wish
on a star. jump on a calico
trolley car. get off
at first avenue. wait
in the rain. call for a
taxi. start over
again.

spend your last sixpence
without asking why. fill
cupid’s quiver
with whiskey
and rye.

wake up
in the morning. follow
the sun. the moon’s there
to greet you
when daylight is done.

sittin on fish chairs
by the lake with you
moon. it’s one of our favorite
things to do.

(Jim knows where you can get one too…)
(Minnesota Lake Chairs)

things that want our bodies,
moon.

children.
cancer.
men.