Super Moon

Super Moon

When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, that’s amoré.

Or in my case,

When the moon hits your eye, there’s some grass in your eye,

when you fall dead.

It happened that night of the super moon. It was bright as day. Jerry asked me to help him move this truck. We met over by John’s house. Back by the garage sat this big F150, been sittin’ there for years. But Jerry had the bright idea we could move it.

Another funny thing, it wasn’t Jerry’s truck. It was John’s. Now why Jerry had it in his brain he thought he could move John’s truck I never did find out.

“I think we can just give the old gal a jump. Then move it on over to my place. I’d told John I’d work on it for him.” Jerry pulled out the cables from his fancy schmancy new truck.

I looked around for John. Nowhere to been. “You sure John is fine with this?”

“Sure. No worries. Just help me hook these up. We’ll be out of here in no time.”

We didn’t need a light, the moon was full overhead. A super moon, as I said.

But once we got that old F150 roaring to life, out came John from his place also roaring to life.

A few shots later l lay on the ground. The super moon sure shone bright that night. It bounced off my open eyes then off into space.



W/C 248