the man in the moon

what you expect when you look up.

to home of the big shiny

in what is otherwise dark,

nearly black, but yeah

there’s color and i’m an artist, even we,

including Michelangelo Buonarroti who didn’t pump

red like blood under the sculpted fine Tuscan

Carrara marble  skin of the Pieta -

the  Madonna and dead Christ,  

have a tendency to round things off.

like i‘s saying, it was dark,

the pale  moon bright near white

or there abouts.

and low you have it

creeped down on the side is the face

as drawn in olden times, in antique mysterious hue 

as per the season, moisture content in the air,

time of night, cloud drift in the way, all of the above

come together, perfect, scary and complete;

needed only dreadful music, wind blowing

and black cat leaping, shrieking, but this is life

not hollywood remembers, not even a mouse

so, that’s how it goes

and went leaving

an impression on my mind;  

like an inside job wall brain stencil.