THE MOON

The Moon laps a la Mer
Tasting the vintage
Wine of her Earth
O Mer! Oui declare
It tastes of The Sky

 

J’y vois plus clair dans mon jeu.
Light moves across the cathedral floor.
The hand beside the hole – just
one frame – wild flowers in
magnified technicolor, our art
won’t you please make, love
too me, avec vous, moi you

c’mon, baby
i want, too, feel you dancing
in the purple pain it will cause now i must get up and run – run – run fuck, me
it’s like instead of love, you say fuck,
then sign off.
fuck,
me

Now, tout suite, bien sur, it is me:
i am back for you, won’t you please?
i ain’t no fro fromage , you
all of it, art.
share with me, love