LUNAR ECLIPSE: A NOTE ON HOW TO BATHE IN REFLECTIONS AND REMAIN UNSEEN sit under an umbrella with a radius of at least two feet remember to wear socks this is a lunar poem under supervision of a solar poem stuck in a crater under a Pink Floyd album waiting to see if anyone understands a hidden definition of what the hell is happening here something simple like cells splitting not as complex as splintered atoms but a smooth head nod to the way of things a double double animal style with raw onions and grilled a scent of perfection permeates a lunar landscape just ask Michael Collins on how he smuggled cheese aboard without notice tiny little microbes mouthing off about wanting milk suddenly that umbrella becomes useful as fat and juices drip and flip on down the food chain
Zack Nelson-Lopiccolo is a on a strange trip on the back of a cat with a pocket full of cheese. We’re not going to talk about Judy…
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a moon of one's own 