Red River Girl Posts

you can stop runnin off with the underwear
moon. everyone knows that it’s you.
you think you’re so sneaky, but we all got a
peek-y at the tape from the laundry room.

the doctor said eat more lettuce
moon. so that’s what we’re tryin to do.
but it’d surely taste better with

(a stuffed pork chop dinner) or…
(cheese curds and fried peppers) or…
(shrimp dipped in butter) or…

maybe just topped off with sprinkles
of you.

box wine with no box
moon. it’s the best we can do.
you wouldn’t necessarily want a box
around you.

nothin strains quite like a strainer
moon. and no one makes moonshine
like the moon shines
on you.

(fuhgeddaboudit, Jim)

baby pepper inside a big pepper
moon. how many new moons
have you got inside you?

sometimes people ask about Jim
moon. and I really don’t know what to say.
he’s got a sweet spacesuit, likes
rødgrød med fløde—and I made him up one day.

(you know I knew better)
(but he’s fun in this weather)

gonna quarter you up
moon. and slice you real thin. and serve you
with lamb chops and walnuts and gin.

gonna pass you around
moon. again and again. until the first
have had seconds. then wash out the pan.

gonna stash you away
moon. and smoke a cigar. put our feet up
and smile, cuz we made it this far:

meteor.

today was a very good day
moon. and tomorrow’s still brand new. so here’s to
all days bein happy with you.

we know you’ve been playin hooky
moon. don’t stand there and say you got lost.
there’s no need to pretend. we can see
where you’ve been:
out paintin the town with Jack Frost.

rock, paper, scissors… or flip a coin
moon. the get-away spaceship
will be here soon.