The Supermoon Hangover
We swallowed the moon last night
The moon we swallowed up.
I must say…
It left a kind of bitter -sweet aftertaste that looped through the shunted memory.
A shunted memory of neon crackling and brick crumbling and taxi cabs speeding through empty cities at dawn.
A shunting memory of sharpened melody breaking through superfluous noise and wilful poetry through concrete static!
We had a blast though
A super luna blast.
We are suffering for it now.
For it was the kind of swallowed moon that gives the sort of thirst that can only ever be heroically quenched.
We quenched that thirst.
Having resurfaced this morning we strive now to make sense of last night’s speeded up light fragmented big city super moon adventure.
Failures, recriminations, moments of glory, moments of joy
We blame the moon
Of course we blame the moon
We have to blame the moon
Yea, we can always blame the moon
The moon remains supreme, indifferent
Ah to hell with it all and pass the bottle again!
Please join us as we skip through last night’s traces.