The Face of the Moon

(for Saut)

by: Olivia Macassey

when you speak the moon leans down and listens
to the currents of your voice
as if falling into some river so blue it drowns the eye
as if falling into some slowly flowing river

while we are sitting on the steps below "alleluya"
we hear of how you are leaving us
and we smile for you
but we are frightened of the sun corpses
and of the dust

I am frightened of the roof
where death lay eggs
in the nests of pigeons

I am frightened of the stairs that lead to these things,
have never looked into the face of the moon
when it is burning

you
are the loud one, the quite one,
the man who is playing chess with afternoon
the man who walks into bars with the air
on an expectant cat
the one with the jokes, with a cigarette without a filter
the man with the taste of wet hair in his mouth
the taste of whiskeys in his mouth
the taste of words

the man who said he would swim home
the man who said he would swim home

when you speak the moon leans down and
listens