Cold Hangs the Moon

A poem about a burger joint.

        Cold hangs the moon
	        (surrounded thrice
	        by demon lights)

The cat jumps under you~

        And rays of ice
	        shine on my face
	        beneath the violet spell 

        I’m not invited 
	        to this place—
	
I’m not to leave as well~

        So shine four silver suns 
	        who flood the parking lot.
	
        The demons with wheels 
                hum 

I’m safe, and I'm safe not~

	Hop the curb
		with needless grace, 
		do not disturb 
		who stops for burgers 
		(not your friends)

The ocean highway never ends.
		
        Do you hear the lights open their mouths
        	while staring down at me?
	
        Now ring their voices, 
	       	bright and loud,
                their silent voices three:

        Imposter (oster, oster) 
elsewhere, elsewhere 
			tread. 

	Use caution (aution, aution)
you are not home in 
			bed!

	We almost know
(we almost know)
	
	What gentle hopes you
(bring)

	Beneath the moon
(beneath the moon)

	This cold fall
evening.

So I returned, 
        my lesson learned,
        my burger reeked of sin.

I’ll not return
	(I’ll not return)
	to N—’s old Drive-in.