The Machinery - A literary collection.

habitat-2-19-01.jpg Illustration by Daria Wollman.

The moon is a gondola
I wish would carry me away,
I wish would carry me away.

The clean bed sheets of my religion
Must surely be saturated now
With these nighttime thoughts,
The bad influences,
Communicable diseases,
My parents call them.

Yet I see a happy dance,
Skinny dippers writing psalms.
They’re like diaries, I’m told.

I return to my blank sheets,
And wish for the moon,
And wish for the moon,

To cease its tug on me.

About the author-

chris laurels.jpg

“The moon is the original Rorschach, really, isn’t it?  No two pair of peepers have ever gazed upon that silvery perception test and been in receipt of the same psychological evaluation.”

Chris Stewart has a poem forthcoming in the international annual Great Weather For MEDIA.  He plays at the Cheltenham Literary Festival in 2017.  He was long listed for the CYCLOP International Video-poetry Contest 2015.  His…

View original post 117 more words