I happened upon the moon today!
I saw it for the first time and what a pleasant sight indeed. It was however a very dark and cloudy night and so you might wonder how I dare say that I saw the moon without fear of being thought a mad man. But you see the clouds, though many, and I make no attempt to deny this, the clouds, were so high that the moon was underneath them and therefore unimpeded to my vision.
Having gotten kind of drunk from this moon that had faces, dreams, witches and fears, I went to a near bar, hid from the breeze and took a liking to a serious dose of vodka.
Now drunk indeed, I have reason to believe that the particular position of the moon in relationship to the earth and to me, was not all proper! As if the breeze I hid from was somehow guilty of blowing the course of the moon and even of the wind, redirecting its course up and down, backwards and forward on its ecliptic orbit.
I worried! Bit my hangnails while searching for a song, a melody about the moon. A song that might tell me of its true position, what its true appearance might be, if stars were hiding behind it, something of a memory, but no mnemonic or demonic voices came to mind.
I drank more of the liquid!
Searched in vain for something more to pick or byte from my fingers, from their flesh. the moon, I knew was outside waiting, like dead bodies wait for dreams or worms... waiting indefinitely.
The liquid. The night. The liquid. Serenity entering the bar through doors and windows. The night was now in the bar, sitting on stools, with liquid playing for the eighth ball, intruding, disturbing the jukebox, the moon, the moon had to be close behind!
The sun was hiding from the night like a Vampire from the day. Some bar warming imbeciles stared at me, eyes bulging red in liquor, ferociously moist whiskers, seriously smiling, I crashed my glass into the bar, the wind blew the curtain out! The moon peeked in! Intensely blinding me with flashing burning light, which I knew, though could not prove it was stolen from the sun! Fake reflection! My heart in hand I rushed out through that door into the blinding night and into the arms of a crushing moon!
RC
Having gotten kind of drunk from this moon that had faces, dreams, witches and fears, I went to a near bar, hid from the breeze and took a liking to a serious dose of vodka.
Now drunk indeed, I have reason to believe that the particular position of the moon in relationship to the earth and to me, was not all proper! As if the breeze I hid from was somehow guilty of blowing the course of the moon and even of the wind, redirecting its course up and down, backwards and forward on its ecliptic orbit.
I worried! Bit my hangnails while searching for a song, a melody about the moon. A song that might tell me of its true position, what its true appearance might be, if stars were hiding behind it, something of a memory, but no mnemonic or demonic voices came to mind.
I drank more of the liquid!
Searched in vain for something more to pick or byte from my fingers, from their flesh. the moon, I knew was outside waiting, like dead bodies wait for dreams or worms... waiting indefinitely.
The liquid. The night. The liquid. Serenity entering the bar through doors and windows. The night was now in the bar, sitting on stools, with liquid playing for the eighth ball, intruding, disturbing the jukebox, the moon, the moon had to be close behind!
The sun was hiding from the night like a Vampire from the day. Some bar warming imbeciles stared at me, eyes bulging red in liquor, ferociously moist whiskers, seriously smiling, I crashed my glass into the bar, the wind blew the curtain out! The moon peeked in! Intensely blinding me with flashing burning light, which I knew, though could not prove it was stolen from the sun! Fake reflection! My heart in hand I rushed out through that door into the blinding night and into the arms of a crushing moon!
RC
posted by Ricardo Correa at 5:27 PM
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