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the dead moon is like
a broken plate.
Here the temple gate is locked and
The Mayor of the sun- an old laugher long
Watches hawker breeze the fine damn tale
The stars sing out a wheezy moment then go dark
While a horse draws tight beside the window
Of an unfurnished room where
Astronomy is spread to anyone who’s buying
Old things once gone now reappear
Along the annual path to fall.
These bridges crossed these walls and arches
The way to waiting goes through here.
the dead moon is like
a broken plate.
Here the temple gate is locked and
The Mayor of the sun- an old laugher long
Watches hawker breeze the fine damn tale
The stars sing out a wheezy moment then go dark
While a horse draws tight beside the window
Of an unfurnished room where
Astronomy is spread to anyone who’s buying
Old things once gone now reappear
Along the annual path to fall.
These bridges crossed these walls and arches
The way to waiting goes through here.
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