the moon her magic be big sad face of infinity an illuminated clay ball manifesting many gentlemanly remarks she kicks a star clouds foregather in scimitar shape to round her cradle out upsidedown any old time you can also let the moon fool you with imaginary orange balls of blazing imiginary light in fright as eyeballs hurt foregathered wink to the wince of the seeing of a little sprightly otay which projects spikes of light out the round smooth blue balloon ball full of mountains and moons deep as the ocean high as the moon low as the lowliest river lagoon fish in the tar and pull in the spar billy de bud and hanshan emperor and all wall moongazers since daniel machree yeats see gaze at the moon ocean marking the face in some cases the moon is you in any case the moon