The Serious Moonlight

By Shane Robitaille

What do we sing now
when the hard edges of
a long day cut our skin,
when soot rains down
and stings our weary eyes,
when the gravity of the world
weighs heavy on our souls,
when real beauty is scarce,
when everybody is running
but going nowhere fast,
when everybody is talking
but not saying much,
when there are too many
signs and so many rules,
and when the sad DJ on the
car radio says that rock died
when Major Tom touched the
white hot stars for the last time,
blew a kiss to the tearie-eyed
earthlings below and danced
into the moonlight, the serious
moonlight?