I had some words I wanted to say,

But the Void Moon was in phase,

And so I thought it better 

Not to waste them.

A picture of me I wanted to send,

Useless feelings across my face

In the guise of a smile,

But I thought it best

To wait a while,

Until the moon agreed 

That seeds would sprout.

Everyone knows that the period between 

The moon being closely structured within

A constellation of the sky

Is a time where everything is without a course,

And will be the source of vanity

For anything that’s begun.

The Wild Goose Chase,

The Hunting of Snipe,

The blackberries that never ripen,

All had their inception 

During the time of the Void Moon.

My Parents, in fact, believed deeply in this,

And would only do something idle, like kiss

One another, during the void moon.

And on one such day, they decided 

It would be ok, also to fuck around.

And nine months later I was born.

So I play my part.

The wild goose chase,

The hunting of snipe,

The berry that never gets quite ripe,

The idea that never fully actuates,

It is my fate, and so,

It is my heart

To start the most important parts 

Of every last thing

Included in this life

With sufficient respect!

To the wake in morning,

To the sleep in the night,

To the song I sing sweetly

To the kite without string,

The uninvolved moon

On its course without course,

Its way without way,

To this useless ride through paradise 

I take today,

I salute you.