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~ By the Light of a Dying Moon | by Mackeson
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~ By the Light of a Dying Moon

god and the buddhas

merge onto highway 62

in a bel-air nomad

it’s early

not even 4 a.m.

yet the 18-wheelers

are already rolling

god is

sipping black coffee

from the lid

of a stainless steel thermos

a lit lucky strike

between the fingers

of his left hand

which is also

gripping the wheel

the three buddhas are

sitting in the back

eating maple bars

“turboglide, baby,”

says god with a grin

as they accelerate

“with fuel injection

and solid lifters, i might add,”

“listen to that,”

says god,

“it tells you the universe

is in harmony”

“you ever read

zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance?”

god asks the buddhas

who are sitting,

licking the icing from their fingers

and wadding up the waxed paper

they shake their heads no

“pretty good book,” says god

“nevertheless, a ’57 chevy has

buddha nature,” say the buddhas

“fucking A, buddhas,” says god

“it’s a shame to be up this early

and not be going fishing,”

say the buddhas

“well, i want to look at some rocks,”

says god

soon, however, the buddhas are asleep

“sleepest thou?” god smiles

“couldest not thou watch one for one hour?”

“i’ll wake them later,” god thinks to himself

and he recalls the old man and the sea:

“the boy was asleep on a cot

in the first room

and the old man could see him clearly

with the light that came in

from the dying moon.

he took hold of one foot gently

and held it until the boy woke

and turned and looked at him.

the old man nodded

and the boy took his trousers

from the chair by the bed and,

sitting on the bed, pulled them on.”

“ah, hemingway,” god says to himself

now, well within the ambit

of joshua tree national park

god pulls to the side of the road

near the jumbo rocks

and, in turn, takes hold of one foot

of each of the buddhas, holding it

until each awakes

from his otherworldly slumbers

by the light of a dying moon

through the windshield of a ’57 chevy

they behold the remnants

of a long-eroded mountain range

formed two billion years earlier

on a now non-existent

super-continental landmass

long before the existence of life

and conscious thought

“don’t tell me,” says god,

“they have buddha nature”

“we were thinking more like nirvana,”

say the buddhas

god notices

the wind has ceased to blow



joshua tree national park

near jumbo rocks

approximate ten minute exposure

zero image 69

pinhole camera

kodak e100vs

color slide film

for kat


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Taken on April 9, 2008