Fallen moon <br />held prisoner in a puddle <br /> <br />stabbed <br />by a stiletto <br /> <br />that click claks <br />to the cruising car <br /> <br />offering straight <br />sex <br /> <br />(& other various <br />positions & passions) <br /> <br />to its gesticulating <br />occupant. <br /> <br />The car <br />leaves without her. <br /> <br />She shifts gum <br />from one side to the other <br /> <br />blows <br />& pops <br />a bubble <br /> <br />leaving the sticky mess <br />upon her lips <br /> <br />regurgitated to <br />blow another. <br /> <br />“A...cazza’n cullo! ” <br />she shouts at the bitter cold. <br /> <br />I attend <br />the dying moon <br /> <br />whispering the last rites <br />of a half forgotten poem <br /> <br />to its shattered reflection. <br /> <br />Returning to my room <br />I drink alone. <br /> <br />Full moon <br />in Milan <br /> <br />wandering the heavens <br /> <br />looming large now <br />smiling in my little window. <br /> <br />* <br />Guarda che luna Look at the moon <br />Guarda che mare Look at the sea <br /> Questa notte senza te on this night without you <br /> Vorei morire I don’t want to live<br /><br />Dónall Dempsey<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/guarda-che-luna-look-at-the-moon/
