The moon in the house is Room 237
Room No. 42
On 2/21 when my dreams became real
The moon smashed into the light
I spread my life like cards in front of me
If I die and all I have are these fucking poems
At least I will have the Moon Room
And the smooth black bedspread
Where I can sleep with a corpse
Who laughs at me, but still loves me after all
In this life I have had to go straight into hell
And no one gave me spring
Except you, but you were not real
Just like my family
Just like the moon
No the big bull has led me into this house
And I will have to kill him in order to get out of here
And after I do
What will I have but the morning that brings me no relief
And the day which brings no love at all
To read the rest of this piece, purchase issue 27.1 here.