Phasology: Just a Phase I’m Going Through?

Looking for a Door in the Moon

Drilling the edges

shy of center,

my saw carves off the corners

light trickling

from the periphery


my hands


sides of my legs

but glancing away

from my face.


Moon Skewers

Skewer me moon

my cocktail party

needs thank you

favors and no one else

can offer

personalized moon


A thousand dollars


and there

is all it takes

for my friends

to not find

moon skewers

any place

but mine.


Asking You to Stay

Dropping a hint

at the full moon’s


I pulled

from the roots




spring’s best

in full light

of a full moon

hoping to hold

this phase

in place.


Failing at Forcing Waning

When it’s full,

screw the top off

see if you can force it

to be half

or less

than half

or waning.

When you don’t succeed

at forcing waning,

give up and invest

in night-blooming gardens.


Moon on My Fork

Similar to

a baked potato

I thought I could

stand on a tree

look through a fork

at the moon

and see through fine


if it was done.

I knew I couldn’t touch

even the rim

but I thought

if I gestured

in the right direction

I could get a sense

of level

of done.

Up a tree

looking through

forked slats

the light is refined

and if I squint

the moon goes away

but doesn’t come


and doesn’t tell me

how close to done.


Moon In Search of a Day Job

Bored to be the moon

so looking

for a good cloud

or spare sun

to transpose with.

When you’ve got

a night job

everyone else

sleeps through

you prefer

the sun or just

to have a function

people are awake to.


Chip Off the Old Moon

Chip off the old moon

just finding rocky

scraps of unnamable

fragments in the garage.

You told me

they came from the moon

and you’re not

an astronaut

it’s true

but I like

to believe you.

Holding said

moon chips

up for light

I have to remember

not to turn off

the garage light

with the moon

you said

these came from

now, throwing off

no light tonight.


Gardening on the Moon

Gardening on the moon

little light

but no passersby

to interfere

with my nocturnal


Working in the laboratory

I keep churning

hearty cross-breeds

planning a send-up

of gold folds

or pink layers

of earth bloom

fit for a replanting

with no sun

no water

but a long rocky

face to themselves.


Moon Police

Moon police

is that crater

approved for inhabiting

or just one-day


Remember to declare

moon dust

at customs

try not to smuggle

moon rocks

not sold

by certified moon


and please

turn the light off

before you leave.


Lunatic Highway

Driving alone

through the moon

I couldn’t belive

how smooth

the cut of clouds

seemed to slice

the moon in two.

Setting my wheels

upward with nothing

filling my engine

to could get me


I attempted

the lift through

the lunatic highway.


Moon’s Solitude


the moon

doesn’t mind saying no

to lingering on a phase

or allowing a tide

to stay longer.

Alone in its movements

the moon doesn’t mind

being the only


among clouds

stray planets

being the only


who can move

the ocean.


Couldn’t Be Your Waitress

Couldn’t serve you

couldn’t be your


said the moon

traveling as I am

on high

forever monitoring

sky oscillations

I have nothing

I’m willing to

give you

as you are

so low

but I drop

in passing

light shreds

you can use

as you can.


Choices of the Moon

Inspecting your choices

you had none

but to endure

all the phases–

fluctuating light

and often insufficient

darkness to sleep,

but you knew

your favorite phase—

the one unseen—


would be back.


Moon Climbing

Learning to climb

the moon staircase

wasn’t hard.

I just repeatedly

looked up, longed

for light

and sought the mid-

night solace

of alone with spot

light instead

of cocktail


Looking at the light



it was easy

to see myself

in the moon.


Moon with a View

To dine

with a view

from the moon

is to forget

the crumbs

on your plate

the howling

dogs at your feet.

Table set

the crumbs

howling animals

don’t matter

seeing through


burned out


abandoned space suits


ripped apart

by errant astronaut


looking back

with a view

of home, far enough

away to appreciate.


Smothering a Moon Half

Sliced in half

I wondered

at the other half

I hid under

my pillow.

Half as a bright

for twice as long,

I slept well

atop smothered light.


Absent—Gone to the Moon

I forgot to count space


the same as your others.

Suited in space

technologically advanced


ready to explore

the universe’s largest


I stood by pretending

the light you traveled toward

was you.

The light in my lone room

I thought was you

as you kept trekking


the suited alien

from earth.


Dying Star, Full Moon

The star burning out

leaped past

in dying streak

the full moon

wondering if

brightness at its peak

so near

would diminish

its final showing.


In the Moon’s Hand

Poem written

on the moon’s face

the moon blushing

with harvest color

yellowish, a little

like a juandiced


the script of passing

clouds, stars dying out

winks at us

an inscrutable poem.

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