Blame It On the Moon
I lost my mooning contest
with the moon.
The odds were in my favor:
two pallid orbs
against one: a sullen sack
up there, barely engaged,
as the gamblers around me
gawked. But
when the blood billowed
down to my noggin,
I swooned, face dunk
in the mud.
Next day all the grog in Terra
below could not
stake a rematch between me
and that bad
bulbous bag of apathy
in the night,
that orbital ogler flashing
its silk surveillance through
our innocent panes
and unsuspecting livers,
exposing our competitive
genitalia to alleged shame,
a heavenly body, distinguished
by the negligence of its ilk.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
