moonshine

they've eaten well, and sensibly,

bodies perfected in the gym

with all the soul of mannequins

and the sincerity of a laugh track

the amateur tyrannosaurs, make

moonshine gossip on the patio,

as if they were a mere eleven.

it's all about toothpaste bombs

and potato guns, the revolution

du jour, funny stuff on youtube.

they take a brief interruption

in the preening and rituals

to speculate on building stars

with seawater and lithium.

so many phone eyes,

voyeurs on the square

capturing the geometry of scars.

all the signs and angles,

the trajectory of atrocities and

arcs, the rhythms overturned, 

an avalanche of books

timed to launch careers