last night { } the moon appeared to have a crack in it [2012]

black mold is the door to where I am handheld standing
inward in ankle deep performance ice     and an
uncertain smile is the cause of a stench     a stamp

standing in a vocabulary of abstract black
two children flickered as handheld planets diminished
the distance between empathies     and mysteries

handheld mortar is made manifest as a stoppage
or a crack     and the occasional straining of
a grandmother's stare is black     and lit from behind

walking will soon be a fabric of the past     or
handheld snapshots of landings are slapping tinctures from
tabula rasas     and black is a collision

last is like clockwork on this moon of separate legs