5 April

Day 5

Moon landing

see prompt here: http://www.napowrimo.net/

White blossom is like a plastic bag on a twig-

tonight the Moon will stick over your house

You will see its milk-spill light,
it will howl like the number 80

Kim Jong Il in Pyongyang will hear about this
and ask for it back

Tonight the Moon will move, but not too far,
perching at the bottom of your garden
It feels like a bible of braille

The leader insists on paper masks.
He kisses his bae with the mask on
Her lips are pale because he kissed her

The Moon tastes like chalk and lithium
It’s like the silver sewing machine of contingency

The Moon immerses itself in your pond
Mum gets the crow net to fish it out, says
If we treat it right it could be the answer to everything,
the road will be suited with astronauts

The rusted secateurs you use to cut the Moon’s strings
decline to come apart
Everything and everyone neck -dance,
like swans in love

They build a moon base in your head,
the computer is arrogant and Swiss,
obsessed with time

The moon is still here, and I don’t visit –
even in its small tank on your bedroom shelf,
it’s harsh, it’s blinding