Under Our Newest Moons

Watching the stars come
out is so passé their Zodiac
though changing
is dial-up paced
we are all now unenthusiastic
about the prospect of romance
under the canopy of outdated
and bloated sparks
the newest moons
each packed with dead
and dying Laikas
their Promethean LED lights
cast shadows that trace us back
and forth like the officers’
penlights watching the dilated
pupils of accident victims
we are starstruck by their grace
as they watch us with
their government gazes as
we sin nightly in their vision
the moon whines in its lazy
one-faced pantomime
its craters unable to throw
late night televangelists
back to earth hurtling at light
speed like Lucifer to crash
into our homes

Ryan McGivern