Harvest Moon

ravaged ladder
house of straw
fine hair on the face of a fetus
the thumbprint of God

breakdowns are part of the act
this time of year
the rock concert’s fake fog
taken straight from a Song Dynasty landscape

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captive cormorants in choke collars
unable to swallow even
the ghost of a fish

nobody waxes poetic
under spotlights as bright as these
nobody lies down
under tombstones as white as these

you have to drive an hour to find
a dark enough night for dissolution
poor moon
poor harvest

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