Polyethylene Sequence

It was a charcoal night
with white paint spots on the ceiling.
The breeze was cold
and the silence I was accustomed to
was exchanged with a ghastly howl in the wind.
Nobody was there,
(not even the stray rats
clumsily running for a rotten piece of cheese)
the city was deserted,
only a foul stench of rot gravitated to my nose,
but I was left behind to wander,
or so I thought.

I looked upwards,
to the vault of heaven
and saw the crescent as Jupiter
with a circumference as big as the sun.
It grew wider and bigger,
brighter and whiter,
wooing and blinding.
As I coldly stood,
watching how the moon
crashed into my neighbor’s door,
an epiphany dawned on me.

The numbness of my bones
began to dissipate.
I realized
that perhaps
loneliness was just an illusion,
a polyethylene sequence
that needed to be broken.
And so I climbed over
the moon’s pâté surface
and ate my solitude
until forenoon.