Moon moon goes far we never see
the moon
styrofoam, plastic.
Still your mouth is full of moon-
drips meaningless into meadows.
Scratching like a scarecrow,
we don't have those around here.
Garbage in the grass sparkles after sun,
Lit by concrete covered lamps
small scampering animals.
The light hums
What is born here?
Fantasies of mine.

-k

my flickr