Poem for Night Owls

O Moon
of the hackled night
like a door ajar,
a door ajar with chalk,
with oldest chalk
of oldest board,
[who talks all night
on the starry telephone]
write on these floorboards,
make me get out of bed
to copy your thoughts
on paper or light
like paper, where
we are now, inside a net here,
another door ajar,
and everyone
like moonlight
pinging around
on Facebook,
and Hey,
oh you people made of moonlight,
feel free to add me.

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