2016-05-07 - 10:20 p.m.
There was a full moon
the morning we went out
And nobody was there
to say anything.
Together we were alone
on Bings Arrows and all sorts of things
But in the ironic
hereafter of all things
water and air
There was no more need to speak.
Just briquettes and spines
And a start and a stutter
to the machine fire.
