Moon


	The moon has passed its zenith,
	Hovering, quietly and evenly;
	I pull down the shutters tight,
	Past midnight, to calm into sleep
	My overactive empirical mind,
	Until having analyzed that view:
	Why does it glide by so smoothly?

	I count sheep: one . two . three . .
	Lightly dozing, asking without guile, -
	A look, a question, a smell, a bite
	By Eve could never have caused
	Such devastating hereditary sin,
	Condemning all of us mankind, -
	There has to be a missing link.

	Counting on: ten . eleven . twelve . .
	One family insists on dominance
	Over all members of the group,
	One elite is claiming supremacy
	Over the entire population,
	Enlarging each power cycle
	By deception and mass murder.

	Counting: hundred one . two . three . .
	The myth does not explain it, -
	But in pious obedience of faith
	Not further to probe into realities,
	Not to question the authorities, -
	Let's start from scratch and afresh,
	What do we have so far on facts?

	Counting: thousand one . two . three . .
	Stellar clouds contract, burn, explode,
	Planetary systems alternate with dust,
	A depraved civilization blew itself up
	That radioactively mutated DNA,
	Shot out with millions of comets,
	Is travelling from galaxy to galaxy.




Udo Frentzen 2015