the moon was slacking last night
with his yellow teeth
smoking the last of his cigs down to the filter
like the father of the 1960's alberta I picture
he was polluting the entire ocean that stood so still
underneeth his waveless, his breezless skies
and the hike up that hill was high
but ike made the time pass by
he carried me, a stick in his hand,
a horse beside him
pawing at the ground
his eyes rolled yellow and he was afraid of the water he saw
because still water runs deep
and he did not know
that all the sea urchins died because of the smoke from the moon
and we ate smoked salmon all night
on crusty rolls bought at 2am from the grocer who bakes
till we rolled onto my lawn and grinded our hips and teeth
bashing together because we didnt know better
sharing last drags that the moon passed to us with a smile
black holes where his teeth should have been
do we never learn our lesson?