​
​Supermoon


All along Beacon Street they gather:
Lovers, loners, tourists, friends
On other nights they walk with purpose,
Only taking account inside shops
But tonight’s show is free
 
A disturbed man stops two British tourists,
With the sky as his pretext
They talk of motions and planets
But not much else
 
Farther up a man is pointing his camera skyward,
Taking videos- oddly enough
He doesn’t at first notice the blowsy old woman behind him,
Whose voice intrudes on his shot,
Now part of his record forever
“Go around the corner; they have telescopes,” he declares
She does, and he stares up at his only companion
 
A small crowd forms a line in front of Otto’s Pizza,
Thanking the family of stargazers for providing
A way to get closer
  
One says, “Nothing’s free any more” (except this)
The other says, “Journalism’s not truth any more”
The first counters: “They don’t pay artists any more.”
 
Pretending he doesn’t notice the sky,
A passing weirdo asks whether
Johnny Depp is back 
But he’s not, and the empty sidewalk outside
The theater proves it
 
The moon looks down gimlet-eyed on everyone
Earth’s haze scatters the cool colors of the Sun,
Giving the moon only red
It once knew fiery lava flows
But now (behind our red gift) 
It maintains a neutral tone
Watching and waiting





Lovejoy: Your Interstellar Candy Man
 

Zooming across the Milky Way
The Comet Lovejoy passes our searing sun
Whose heat defrosts a cosmic freezer,
Holding a trove of– get this – sugar and alcohol!
 
It patrols the skies for eons,
Like a humorless, civil servant
Until, with Pixie Stick scepter,
It shakes off its grey galactic dust,
Now becoming a tail of orange Tang
 
A field of Pop Rocks shifts,
Threatening the balance of sugar and sense
(Remember: A candy store is a business)
 
Let’s take off on our Galaxy Bar
Past a jealous Mars
To catch the candy cart
 
Wait now; it’s turning,
Flickering off in parental prohibition
Perhaps it’s time for dinner
And, as your mother told you,
“Candy spoils your appetite”
(Our kid astronauts might say broccoli spoils dessert)
 
Lovejoy vectors through adolescence like an Atomic Fireball,
Making the shift to another- ahem- sugar.
It swerves and staggers all over the road,
Hoping the kids will think it’s part of the show.
Amber Moon is not impressed with a tail of crème de menthe,
Glowing with intoxication
 
………………………………………….
 
Lovejoy must now sweeten other solar systems.
Turning toward some abstinent planet,
It waves goodbye with Starbursts of color
We catch some trailing down in space
 
Back on Earth it’s happy hour at Sky Bar
Where we sip our Aviations responsibly
Tomorrow the cafeteria will serve a sensible salad
And a well-done roast beef
 
Comets once peppered this planet
With the building blocks of life
Sadly, amino acids and nucleobases
Leave nothing to taste
 
Someday, if we can catch comets by the tails
Maybe we can convince scientists
To seed some lifeless star
With a tastier compound
 
My money’s on Astro Pop Cocktails