Hey, the moon’s been hungover
three nights
after drinking with you!
Look at it
lying on its back, pale thing,
the top of its head completely gone!
It’s got one foot
on a carpet of clouds
but the earth’s still tilting.
Now the tides
won’t high and low
when they’re supposed to.
Don’t raise your jar to coax it down!
Don’t sing your tavern songs!
The tree frogs and coyotes
have fallen mute. Cranes
go off in the wrong direction
and in the grass there is no dew
to soak the lovers’ clothing –
they pull it on too soon!
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