Daddy's Lunar Moonshine

I sip my Daddy's moonshine,

When I can't get no sleep,

It makes things kinda gnarly-

And sure beats countin' sheep.

Its ABV is mighty,

-Could surely fell a moose,

Makes my brainwaves crash lik hell-

And cuts my senses loose.

When all these things happen,

And the stars, they all align

I'm dreamin' kind of crazy-

Thanks to Daddy's ole moonshine.

It was only last September,

On an Indian summer's day,

That the nighttime took forever-

To dark the day away

I lay there in the half-light

The A/C loud, not purrin'

When the moonshine in my bloodstream-

Got all my crazy whirrin'.

A thousand one-eyed horses,

Done stormed in from the plains,

Dragged me from my bedstead-

And I grabbed the leader's reins.

She galloped me to Iceland,

Across an Arctic sky,

Where my first karate teacher,

Was waiting to say hi.

I dismounted from my horsey,

Who dissolved into the snow,

All thousand horses melted-

Now into the sea they flow.

My Sensei flashed a smile,

Threw me a yellow belt,

But by the time I tied it-

He'd turned to Fuzzy Felt.

But despite his being fabric,

And my weighing two twenty pounds,

He served my ass up on a plate-

Within three painful rounds.

I staggered bruised and battered,

And caught a boat for Mali,

(The HMS Eusebio -

Captained by Chris Farley).

I disembarked at Banjul,

Where Pac-Man's mum was waitin',

To check my moonshine dreamin'-

Would keep on escalatin'.

I'm not a disappointer,

I did the best I that I could do,

To convince her I was Irish-

(With a little Canuck, too).

We chatted for some hours,

Until she had to split,

And fetch her hungry little man-

From his favourite sand pit.

I asked her if I could come along,

-And meet her errant son,

She said, my dear, that would be fine-

And I thought my dream was done.

But somewhere on the journey,

Our helicopter faltered,

And we fell into a dimension-

Where reality was altered.

Inside, the local serpents,

Were busy washing clothes,

(Well, really just very long socks -

Baked from fresh wholemeal loaves).

We watched the giant spacesnakes,

Neatly fold away their launders,

When poetic license struck me-

-Thrown by one George Saunders.

He signed me all the papers,

That let me take his mind,

And pour it into my head-

With a squeeze of lemon rind.

He thanked me most profusely,

And called me Eduardo,

I was confused, but what the hey-

He wrote Lincoln in the Bardo.

We bade farewell to Pac'Man's ma,

She said, boys call me Heather,

Then turned upon a sixpence-

And sailed into the ether.

Now me and Georgie Saunders,

Were left to chew the fat,

I've read a fair chunk of his work-

So that took care of that.

I woke up somewhat later,

The dream a dying ember,

I checked the time and date-

Midday. Tenth of December.

Oh mt, I thought, I'm still asleep,

My dream is still full-throttle,

I hung my left arm outside my bed-

Clinked my fingers on a bottle.

I took this as a signal,

That more moonshine was heeded,

And friends, what would y'know? -

My own advice got heeded.

This extra moonshine sent me,

To the endless damned Sahara,

George Saunders waved me off-

Claimed, it's too damned hot. Sayonara!

I wondered and I staggered,

From dune to dune to dune,

Wondered why I couldn't have-

Been sent unto the moon.

And this was when it hit me,

the 'shine explained it soon,

Said my Daddy was a spaceman,

And his moonshine was just that; lunar,

Distilled from the sea of tranquility-

-It gets you blotto sooner.

So when I woke upon the,

The next late summer morning,

With adventures from my dreamin'-

Accompanyin' my yawnin'.

They faded with each exhale,

As the day disrobed the night,

I walked my bones out past my porch-

And squinted in the light.

My head it was a throbbin',

My breath could fell a mule,

I repaired inside and sat-

Upon a kitchen stool.

I longed for hot fresh coffee,

I wanted to crack eggs,

But my brain was so dog-tired-

And could not instruct my legs.

So I closed my eyes and retreated,

In to my mind's universe,

Where I think I'll stay for quite a spell-

I guess things could be worse.

It's a fairly wild existence,

With George, Sensei, and Heather,

So I guess I'll goddamn stick it out-

In my moonshine dream forever.

We stroll among sequoias,

Grow icebergs, talk with gods,

But, reader—please don't wake me-

I'm at home among the odds.