A Man Called Sunflower/The Moon’s Hands by Dustin Cole

I met a man called Sunflower
in a bar where I am hated
I complained about the heat

(Apollo’s face is the sun
Apollo’s face is a chariot wheel
flowers follow with their faces)

I lose my sunglasses
I ignore eclipses
I pass by shadows

I ask them if they know Sunflower
He told me about
an air-conditioned moon

The shadows shrug their shoulders
They aren’t aware of Sunflower
They ask me what’s a moon

The moon is touching on me
It’s that time of month
He reaches down into
the after dark noise
He kisses my forehead
Old man older than the world maybe
Your brain is a moon he says
Anything can happen
when I put my hands on you

Dustin Cole’s work has appeared in Expat Press, Apocalypse Confidential, Burial Magazine, Spectra Poets and Loser Magazine. He is the author of the novels Notice and Run the Bead and the poetry collection After Sunstone. These poems originally appeared in Loser Magazine Volume V.

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