Hymn to a Moonwalk

Hymn to a Moonwalk

flow along intimate channels tracking past undrawn curtains a grey, slow rabbit hedge blink to back away from

prints of wind waves and the bands of hair him sedimentary, him interlocked

trotters and ankles belabouring road hunched in the spitting heather

and there are miles to go in the air moon gaining height bound beneath docks

a story of dry ears and mouth, a freezing telephone box huddled in a bag, gleaming nail varnish between pub and lesson

before music vigorous spirits hung a boulder in the sky for us to ignore

at the end of the sun Sunday followed the line down into the foolscap hoards into impossible volume of futurist creep.

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