the whole lunatic device

then come to terms with the moon
and the whole lunatic device
to learn to tell in darkness
whether it's facing the sun

just because there are so little
facts one can hold onto these days
and even in shape, and in size, and in distance
it is only a specter

Me (or, say, this vague sense of self),
I follow the curve it traces
stumbling backwards, ready
as if I were catching a ball

thus my annotation:
the waning gibbous, 45 percent lit
full moon was june 27
new will be july the 6th

[while] in the morning, if the sun rises
the newspaper will hit your door
it will fall flat in your carpet
it will fall flat in your way

then you can unfold the pages
maybe uncover some truths
keywords shall run off the table,
tiny black bugs to the shades