Sister Moon


Sister Moon

I’m ashamed of Hercules,
And Samson was a moron,
The Great Gatsby was a stalker,
He wouldn’t be allowed to pull that shit
Today, but then again,
Money is always money,
You know how that always goes,

In the deep love of art
You get a glimpse,
Of the genuine originals
As part of the one spirit,
And therefore made
In the image and likeness of our
Own relationship with existence
And GOD apart from existence,

Relativism, secularism, humanism,
Atheism, Utopianism,
Leaning on the world
As if the world was not duplicitous,
Trusting the limitations of nouns,
All dependent on the forbidden jewel-eyed
Roped random spasmodic purple
Star thrusts into fertile eternity,
Thunder that shimmered with vibrational flaxen love,

Then he showed me my companion, finally,
Blood of my blood,
Heart of my heart,
Bone of my bone,
Sister Moon.

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