To the Moon

Honestly, I care
Bout as much
As my hair,

Which is plenty.
But not the same
As twenty,

When it was black
And blue.
Dangling curly cue.

From here
On out,
I’ll walkabout

With salt
And pepper,
Like a leper.

But make the best
Of the litmus test.
Though last request-

Holding my head high,
Nose to the sky,
Ear flaps back,

Hear low life cracks.
Keep walking on
Make up a song.

Stinging little tune
To rub in the wound,
Then send to the moon.


3/15/21