Hi Friends. In honor of National Poetry Month, here’s a newsletter about my most favorite newsletter, the moon.
“When the astronaut told me
she needed more space
I dropped my pants
to the floor in the grocery store
The above stanza is one of approximately seven million stanzas I have written about the moon over the course of my career. You may or may not know this but I, Andrea Gibson, am notorious for sneaking the moon into too many of my poems. Poets have grown tired of the moon. There is even a book of poetry titled, “No More Poems About the Moon”. But I can’t stop mooning people. My response when people comment on the fact that the moon is in everything I write—I’d rather have a sky without a moon in it than a poem without a moon in it! That’s not true, of course. But I enjoy winning my arguments.
Because I love the moon so dearly, gazing at her last night, I started wondering if there is anything I don’t love about her. There isn’t much, but just to entertain myself, I began imagining what I might say to my partner if she ever found out about the affair I’ve been having with the literal lady of the night. Couldn’t keep the crescent grin off my face while writing this:
Baby, she lives 238,000 miles away and you know I don’t have the kind of dough for that flight. Also, I’m realistic enough to know that if I met her close up I’d likely feel suffocated. I’m not saying she has bad atmosphere. She just has hardly any atmosphere at all, and you know how much atmosphere I need for romance. Additionally, close up, I think I might find her personality a bit dry. Gray even. And let’s be real, I’m not the type to fall for someone with an American Flag poking out of her belly button. I hate to say this but she lets people walk all over her. Not a lot of people. Twelve to be exact. But I prefer a more empowered companion like you, someone who makes her own light. And don’t even get me started about her moonquakes, or the fact that she goes from hot to cold so fast (127 to –152) not even Saturn could make a mood ring that could keep up with that.
But from a distance she’s so lovely, full but not full over herself, and even when she isn’t full her sideways smile makes me swoon. She always understands the gravity of a situation but doesn’t overreact, just grounds me. And what was I supposed to do–there’s a skylight above our bed, baby, and you fall asleep hours before I do. She was just there, pulling me toward her. I felt like the sea, completely under her control.
Thanks for letting me get weirder by the day everyone!
Now go moon someone!
Love, Andrea Mooner Gibson 🖤
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