GIRL ON THE MOON
Rebecca Loudon
Why do all the angels die
with flower petals at their feet?
I can sense your eyes on the moon,
are you the daughter of the man
on the moon? I would like to know.
The violinist with the golden touch
for attracting deadly men
I could no more walk,
what can I say,
my soul was too tired for the trip.
I didnąt realize it coming
through the fog that fell
with the bleachers
and the grassy knoll behind the
football field.
These things donąt have much meaning,
these tears have no place to fall
but off the bridge.
Where do all the little angels go
when they die?
I would like to visit that place
but you tell me to hold on,
make your choice.
Go tonight, take your nap
punch through the windshields
of the bastardąs straight up penis
take the hand of your son through
the waters of Puget Sound,
remember me,
I am the girl on the moon.
Neha Prasad
