In the Heart of the Moon
last night I went to sleep
with a head full of mezcal
and these dreams of being a poet
but when I woke up to the world
no one was reading poetry
everyone was listening to techno
and the hairs on my chest were silver
so I slowly grunted around the flat
with the breath of a large gorilla
drinking a moka pot of joe
with freshly foamed oat milk
made some eggs with lox
listened to the sparrows chirp
as they ate seeds from the feeder
wrote this empty poem
while wondering what’s inside
the moon where the heart should be
but I couldn’t imagine a thing
except more moon rocks
no wires no blood no chambers
it was just solid through the core
and that’s when I realised
everything is exactly what it seems
when there is magic it is magic
when there is love it is love
when there is war it is hate
when there is worry it is just that
there is doubt regarding the heart
at the center of the moon