The Moon is Made of Peanut Butter: A Theory / This Is What Happens When My Roommate Suggests a Poem Topic

I sat down at my desk to write a poem.  The thing is — I didn’t know what I wanted to write about.  So I asked my roommate.

“Hey, Emily.  What should I write my poem about?”

“Uh … the moon … is made of peanut butter … a theory.”

“… Alright.”

Well … friends, I did it.  I asked her, and she gave me an answer.  I was now obligated to use this answer to make a poem, and I did.

Thanks, Emily.  I wouldn’t have written this without your input ….

Please enjoy.  ❤

 

 

The Moon is Made of Peanut Butter: A Theory

 

I’ve been told to look to the

moon when I’m feeling lonely—

other lonely people are already

s t a r i n g

at the luminescent

r o c k  that  r i n g s  around earth.

 

On particularly

lonely                  nights

I wonder if the moon is

made of              peanut butter.

 

A man I now pretend I do not know

sat on the ledge of his terrace after

a  r o u g h  b r e a k u p .

          There were swarming

          gnats around the peanut

          butter he ate with a

          spoon taken home from

          a local frozen yogurt

          place—the only place

          in town to take a date.

 

The moon reflected in his

irises, as he stared, shoving spoonful after

spoonful into his mouth, despite how much had

caked under his tongue.

          Harmless suffocation

          of the taste of air—the

          moon the only witness

          to a heart breaking

          in between remedies

          for loneliness.

 

(On particularly lonely nights I wonder if the moon is made of peanut butter.)

         

          My best friend, she says

          peanut butter is the only way

          to feel less lonely.

It’s clingy.

sticky

stuck to the roof

of mouths that just want

t o     i n h a l e

clearly for once

but can’t.

          because the loneliness is too much

          just like the air on the moon is

          n e v e r  e n o u g h.

The distraction of it—the taste and smell

of peanut butter is a comfort that

can’t be shaken away.  It’s always

h  e  r  e

even when The Moon is hiding from her lover

The Sun

on the other side of my world.

 

 

The creation of this poem took longer than usual … but that’s okay.  It’s interesting enough to be worth it.

As always, thanks for reading!  I hope all of you each have days better than usual.

2 thoughts on “The Moon is Made of Peanut Butter: A Theory / This Is What Happens When My Roommate Suggests a Poem Topic

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s