1/25/03
I almost fell over a man watching his feet.
Pardoning me and smiling into his eyelids
I verified the pavement at my feet
And recommenced a star perusal.
Orion, ever aiming above himself
Made as if to puncture moonshine
Already deadened by a mid-month shade.
Cars crash this way -
Drivers falling up through the windshield
Into illusory truths -
Earning stargazing
A more pedestrian fame.
And yet - although I stand on sidewalk,
I still feel I'm an obstruction:
A fantastic moonscape is no excuse
For stumbling suddenly over people
With ground-prone eyes.
And yet - the moon is fictional tonight,
Yellowed, sliced, and prepared
For my digestion:
It is the evening's artwork.
At last, I crash outright
Into two children connected to the sky.
Laughing, we coalesce
Into an obstacle of admiration.
Things, at last,
Are looking up.
