BIR - Erik Kestler

ORBITAL

Erik Kestler

The gangs shot down the moon,

the old asbestos-colored moon.

Its face howled

as it flew

from summer to autumn

and into the gutter,

where the rats and the rabbits

asked where it was from.

"Don't worry, it's only the moon,"

said some stupid fallen stone

who couldn’t remember

from where it fell. Well,

no one hit the street

from a place less discrete

than our old chum

the ever-smiling moon.

And who are you

to stand above the moon?

Would the world turn black

for lack

of you?

Erik Kestler is from around here and not from around here.