Two Halves

one heart

A Song for Sleeping (Revisited)

As I slept, you came to me in a dream. Your face was white with two all-knowing eyes. Your lips were red and cracked after a long day of solitude without water. In your hands you held the sun and the full moon. You gave me the moon while you cradled the sun within your arms; my heart burst. Then you threw the moon into the heavens. In your sorrow you sang this song to the pieces of my heart:


I see the moon,

The moon sees me.

The moon sees the somebody I wanna see.

God bless the moon,

God bless me.

God bless the somebody I wanna see.


With that you flew to the stars. You burn and will burn on and on through every morning and every day like fabulous yellow roman candles, but the moon will freeze every night, forever and always.

Lunch Break, or, Moldy Grapes and Walnuts

I see this guy everywhere. I’ve probably had class with him every semester, but I’ll never remember which classes. He’s so ordinarily distinct. He chooses the table directly across from me. Of course. There are four other people in the café and he sits right there. I watch him make his bologna and cheese sandwich (on wheat) like he’s on stage. He’s reading, noting, and he furrows his brow when he feels my eyes on him. Upon finishing the sandwich he rolls himself a cigarette with American Spirit tobacco and dons his hat and scarf. I wonder where he’s going, where he’s been.

I wonder if he knew I was writing about him.