he stepped off
the moon right
into my living room
like a lightning bug
in June an x-ray
that showed all bones
white mime
chalk and dust
he was nude
and crossed his legs
quite uncouth
squat and slow as
earth moves there was nothing
to do but inspect his condition
and the situation
and to tell truth
I used to do what he does
when I was young
entertain my brother
imitate an Oreo cookie or a
metal tree with a few foil
leaves and then fall
or just be
the Niagara River
in our parent's home (1964)
all laughing
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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