For O.T.
I saw the full moon take a last sip of ocean
wipe her lip on a cloud
and slink down an elliptical alley
our marooned throats parched at the thought of squinting
at the light of day
as the shadows long and regal before her imperious stare
now decayed into high-contrast artificiality
frogs and crickets fallen silent
speechless along with the whole backside of the planet
diurnal fools began shuffling from desk to desk
clutching cases crammed with sobriety
While after dawn
I hang out at her favorite bar
patiently
wings folded
waiting to sing.