In maurice, forster writes
"because i say so little you think i don't feel. i care a lot"
as a bloody huge moon rises as we
ride through maurice ave
as the full moon hides in the sunday that followed that friday the 13th
a feeling shies in the back of the car
as my mind glides through chilly empty blocks in maurice
avenue there's talking in the front seats muffled
by the glinting eyes of a scared dog that
ogles me as we drift
silently among stirring breaking screeching
caring passengers of bloody orbits
carrying sounds that slip past us
and leave no trace but a faint absence
In that sunday that followed the friday 13th
i cared for a fearful dog
as we slid through maurice ave
deaf with thoughts and taiwanese songs
drifting back and forth the bloody ever smaller
moon
may-jul/2022