I want to know the part of me
that’s been forsaken all these years
by thoughts and visions, intuitions free
of real-time, no shit plans to engineer
contact with the chthonic. I want to know
that dark side of my moon, small-
time instead of big, a midnight antidote
to the flashing neon I D E A scrawl
my dominant hand has exercised so far.
I say the time has come to claim new
pivot space—a landing at a foreign hearth—
a shift from Sol to Luna, air to earth, to
the night-shade life I’m dreaming of.
First mission, darling: love, and be loved.
Poem #18 of 30 for National Poetry Writing Month April 2016