Singing on the moon seems precarious.
Hum the slightest air
And some moon-monster sails up and perches to stare.
These monsters are moonily various.
If you sing in your bath
Risks are one of these monster entities
Will come crash through the wall and with dusty eyes
Perch on the taps to stare, as if in wrath.
The tenor who practices on a volcano side
Sees eyes rising over the crater rim
To fix their incredulity on him—
There is no place on the moon where a singer can hide
And not raise some such being face to face.
But do not be alarmed — their seeming fury
Comes from their passion for music being so fiery.
So if you just sing from your heart, and stay in your place,
At your song’s end the monster will cry out madly
And fling down money, probably far more than you can spend,
And kiss your shoe with his horrific front-end,
Then shudder away with cries of rapture diminishing sadly.
[Pictures: Two illustrations by uncredited artists from The First Men in the Moon by H.G. Wells, 1901 (Image from Library of Congress);
Lunar Animals, illustration for the New York Sun article on the Great Moon Hoax, by Benjamin Henry Day, 1835 (Image from Library of Congress).]
Song loving Moon monsters. THere's only one song fit for this - an old one, a favourite of my Granny's (In Danish, she hardly knew any English): "I see the Moon (Over the Mountain)".
ReplyDeleteI'm sure the moon-monsters would be thrilled, Charlotte! =) I was thinking of singing them "Fly me to the moon..."
ReplyDeleteNot a bad choice either ;)
ReplyDelete