WORDS FOR THE MOON
I’m three
and the world’s crazy as it comes into consciousness
and my father’s crazier
(something about my penis tonight)
and I’m wandering around asleep awake
saying the moon’s
Acáshua, the jolly crescent after sunset;
The Wilderness, the halfmoon a ship scudding in the clouds;
Moon the moon’s full
and I say Moon
and get all scared and paralyzed and tingly.
And I grew up and saw men crunch in the moondust in Nikes,
heard an astronaut say anorthosític gabbro.
And I’m a grandfather with gray hair
and my legs hurt falling into sleep
and my father was just as crazy after six hundred more moons
and the moon’s still
Acashua
The Wilderness
Moon
- Author: Robert Southwick Richmond ( Offline)
- Published: December 31st, 2020 16:27
- Comment from author about the poem: About 1995, recalling a memory from when I was three years old, sleeping on a screened sleeping porch in San Antonio in 1942. Acáshua was a word I invented to describe the crescent Moon, possibly shaped like a cashew nut. I could use these words to induce a state of sleep paralysis (scared and paralyzed and tingly). The astronaut was Apollo 17 geologist Harrison Schmitt.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 24
Comments1
Good work
Thanks! Don't think I've had anyone respond to this poem, which comes entirely out of my personal experience a very long time ago. Hope you post some poems.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.