Billy X. O’Brien and Ronald Palmer
Blue: Gray: (18 Pills A Day)
They did not know
That it would be so
That there would be a moon
And the moon would be so
—Gertrude Stein: Part V, Stanza LXV -(Stanzas in Meditation)-
The moo: n is blue: and the min: d is gray:
I take 18: p: ills a day.
Billy says: G: limp: se the earth: in helio: tropic
sinking dee: per into the acci: dent: Sign: al of di: stress:
save our souls: lase: red to the sur: rounding gala: Xies:
while we remain grieving in collective rot: ation.
(It had not to do with the moon: either. It had to do with longing. As in: I need cock to
write: Put that on your careful walls)
Your sec: ret is a moon: or: biting you: worst is when:
the came: o itself is out of con: text.
The stubborn moon:
Elects Its Own Orbiting: Forfeits The Planet By Injecting A Wound Beneath The
Cezannian Surface: Designates Class As The Only Difference Outside The Body:
Avoids Ideology In Favor Of Metaphysical Meandering. Forces Stragglers To
Orbit Itself Like Inebriated Micro-Moons. Lets Miss Guggenheim Know Exactly
Where She Bought Her Aesthetics.
From my pill-strewn: terrace: I divo: rce this moon-clut:
Te: red universe. I advocate the agitated or: bitter as null and void.
While you set the pace: to have your say: I take 18 pills: a day.
Pushing the scan but: ton: our cult: ure divi: des zip: per
style: three seco: nds of each is enough to teach. Per:
chance: Per: chant: Per: Haps
You got me: singing threes: Per: Haps Per: Haps Per: Haps!
Your moonish facts have stalled at level blue:
My body severed during level gray: I take 18
pills a day.
I’m sorry: Ronald Palmer is pending. He for: get his mouth can open:
asking if my death will happen in the 18th century:
when Herschel discovered a small moon of Saturn:
Is a moon a planet’s child? Does the weight of the earth change with each new
skyscraper? Maybe that’s why humans fall in love with moons:
because they appear light and glow: refusing our groveling touch.
Flash Back to when he bites his tongue: then pum: mels me in a tight neck clutch.
Then makes me suck: his nine year old penis:
Not everything that orbits is a moon. Each blue pill is a moon: each
yellow pill is a sun:
Ente: ring the body like floating facts: with a dis: sol: ving atmo:
spheric glow. A moon gives you a view of your death.
I ask the blue pills nothing new. I ignore the yellows sounding me gray. I take:
(18 pills a day.) I suppose I want to revolt in degrees: exist outside that trend
of wobbling: out of orbit. Pro: pane ec: static:
Pro: fane em: phatic:
as Mir sp: ace stat: ion dropped into the gorge: ous:
The sky is cut into rectangles and placed evenly above me. She slips haphazardly
into meaning in the might garden of May and me.
I too will be: in orbit soon: And So Will You My Love. (and so will you).