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Black Moon

BLack Moon

‘I've made this brand new bed for you

I trust the things we do

Holy or not’

Vik texted me about the ‘super blue blood moon’

I was laying in bed with a head in the lowtide strung down from yesterday’s walk through prospect park walk with lil Lucy in the sky and Gann

Thinking about the house that we were painting together in our separation

You and me

two astronauts

both away

Will we come home?

When Vik texted I couldn’t even click on the link

but I saw it said super blue blood moon

I had a feeling it was something

about the moon


I just couldn’t get out of the bed

tilted up reading about Einstein’s love for music

He must have perceived a God who was quietly holding this universe together with music


and releasing

astral fingers of the musicians who bear the song into space

Like tree limbs of dark matter holding light together with

Just a voice


I want to contribute to the song

but from exile I remain just a voice of wind in your heart

I want to be the music

that sticks a space in your heart for beauty

But I am a man who leaves everything a little more blue

I want

new darkness new

night, your eyes beneath this


In the evening

I watched Planet Earth II with Ma after two soups

The Penguins, Man

Dad comes back hurled against the cliff by the planet’s roughest water, full of leopard seals, walks 2 miles through blood and shit, fights off those poacher gulls, howls, does a joyous dance with his black light queen while the kids look away embarrassed, then he regurgitates his fish for his lil big head and mama goes out to the sea,



‘That’s parenthood’ Ma said

I told Ma that a seagull in LA stole the gold necklace she got me from China, she didn’t believe me, I had no proof

‘I’m sorry I got so mad in this house’ I meant to say

'I'm sorry I misused my freedom and lost many gifts'

I meant to say

'Godamn Seagull' I said

Ma nodded lucid asleep

I read that the moon would turn red

You told me exactly when to wake up

And that this red was from all of Earth’s sunsets


I pulled a painting out from the ice in the backyard

I had put it out in the rain and sun through the summer

A pool of violet formed and reflected the trees in my backyard

Fingers and branches merged in the darkness on the edge of the woods of falling oaks

When I was young I saw whales in the trees

and the forest was endless beyond them

When enough trees had fallen I could see the acme lights through the mad skier in my room

I had a dream when I was 22, there was a ring down by some rocks near Marseille, Chet Baker's 2nd wedding ring

I went there

I found a ring in the stones, it was invisible, it was the poem

I wrote it, it ran away, I painted a circle in the water

with snow, years passed

The ring I found wasn’t a perfect ring, it wasn’t broken, maybe it dropped from a high place, or was stepped on by something big and bronze, it wasn’t lost, it wasn’t given, it was punched into an imperfect circle, oxidizing green

I let the ether pour on the pond, onto the shadow, onto the lunar heart, the wound of Love, in absence all is full, in the astral day, time widens and time is just a space of divine play an Anfield of strings

All this weight is temporary

Nothing escapes beauty


Nothing will not become a glowing light

then a savor of dark

That night

In a dream I got out of bed and walked to the window

I was surprised to see the moon in the south

The shadow of the earth had become a dancer in the sky

She swept the moon with all her sunsets at once

It wasn’t only red, it was pulled orange pearl, and burgundy with shimmering green, also the blue from the grotta azzurra just around the fullness of the sphere..

The light wasn't hidden, just unseen until now, the colors unfolded outward from the moon until they formed a ring in the sky and I realized the colors were heading to earth..

What were they

these colors falling?

The eclipse was so beautiful, I thought the world was ending

But it didn’t end, I just stopped seeing it

I took pictures, in the dream, not proud of that

I got a call from Alaska, it was Ben Steele a successful painter he was watching the Northern Lights

What was I doing?

We passed this place once

following the memory of love like the Ganges



We passed this music

Into this sky

In some unmade color

We are together

We are

an Iridescent

black moon

I awoke

Ran to the steps and looked west

It was still all gold flaming out into the pale winter morning

I wasn’t gonna see this eclipse, just like the last one, even though I saw the golden darkness and wrote 10 thousand ecstatic words, I missed it too

you sent me a video of tiny eclipses in the palm shadows

Everything I wanted to hold was moving away

I wanted to chase this changing color

I wanted to drive west


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