karl dreams of moon (APR -23 P.A.)

C: he dreams the moon is falling toward earth
he is on this hill stargazing w/telescope
panning the skies w/ (for once) no particular interest or hope of astral bodies
he is staring at the night because it is there
and for the first time since he saw the sky the first time he feels blessedly tiny
just a weenie cog in a great machine spinning forever
and as long as he clicks in the right place at regular enough times it will all stay aloft and unimpinged
and he can float in a light kind of bob small and happy to be unimportant
then he glances in a lunar direction
and sees the explosion on the terminus
bright white shroom cloud at the edge of darkness’ cover
three more blows in quick succession
flashing grows the fashioned pattern
vertical descent in thermonuclear morse
and as the fifth hit reverberates at last karl sees the moon shudder, rumble, like klumsy clutzes fumbling for purchase on an invisible surface
it flails one last ditch hail mary
to thwart gravity’s fatal rainbow & remain suspended on high
but the rips ripple too strong
some fissile thunder unbolts what bonds did once hold this humble satellite in one piece
she is suddenly torn down the dark line asunder
and to pieces the whole thing collapses
through the glass and the mirrors he watches w/horror as the moon shards drift outward in entropic sparsity
some spin away but the big three to earth seem propelled
nay, compelled to return to their mother land
an ancient gaian reunion is imminent
pre-pangean timeframes they will soon resemble
he can feel and see all this too clearly to be nearly unmoved, on the hill stock still standing he knows that audacity’d demand some daring derring-do in waking case but here in the dream with the moon falling faster straight for him than he could imagine such body making moves at he is frozen to the spot
staring up into impending impact
deeply disturbed and unable to move
he should flee, he knows
he will stay though; even as the pieces close the distance he is staying there and keeping his eye upon the lens piece
staring up at the formerly Big Sky Cheese as it falls for him
rooted, impotent, immotile
then he wakes up on the hill in real life and it’s night and there’s drool oozing slow down the corner of his mouth toward his chin