Tell the man on the moon I am out with the dogs. I have loaded them up. I am not without ointment for my lips. This is an occasion. Harnessed, the dogs are mindful of the pregnant bitch. Tell the man on the moon I think she will whelp seven. Ask him if he can know those kinds of things. Ask him if he is like God. Ask him if he knows if God knows how many the pregnant bitch can whelp.
I will miss your hair. Cut some for me. Leave it inside my boot. When I pull it out, I will see summer. My foot will stay warm. Tell the man on the moon we have summer here. If he asks, show him your hair. If he asks about stars, laugh, then if he asks again, show him your mother’s eyes.
Your hair will not feel the same in my boot as it does on your head. Tell him how I would kill for you. You know already the scream a rabbit makes when it is killed. That is the most frightening sound of all. That is only what I think.
The dogs are loaded up. Go look at them first. Tell me they remind you of the time we climbed the mountain. I do not know why. I am thinking of the mountain.
Ask him not to sleep with your mother, my wife. Tell him I would even send the man from the moon into next week. Tell him we say things like that here. Try and draw next week. It always looks a little like last week, this is because we never know.
Take your mother’s skis. I could not bear to watch them up against the wall with the snow melting off them and her not here. Tell her to wear them when she meets the man on the moon. If he asks, say she is sick in the foot. It could be gangrene. Let us think about the mountain again.
It is up there on the mountain that I saw the bone in your foot. You took off your shoes and we rested and I saw a bone on the side of your foot that I had never seen before. I thought you had put it there, at first. It took you away from me. I was watching evolution. You were going down the line away from me. There is no bone in my foot like that. There is no bone in your mother’s foot like that.
I will eat bark. I will pull out your hair from my boot and I will see summer. O.K. I will tell you what summer is. Although check the dogs, they tire when I talk about summer and I cannot have them tired. Tell the man on the moon your father does not know what he is talking about. Tell the man on the moon your father would say he saw summer in his son’s hair because it sounded good. Tell the man on the moon your father would kill for you. Tell him again. Tell him because your father sent you. Tell him to send back my goddamn wife. I like your foot. Open your ears. Tell the man on the moon we say things like that. Your foot is daring. It is breaking the line. My dogs are lying down. They are ready to go. I have to remember the ointment for my lips. If your lips are too dry you cannot call the lead dogs that you have named Peter and Bristle because you cannot make that “p” or “b” sound with lips with big pieces of skin like shutters hanging off one hinge and flapping in the wind.
Who can say he has truly seen the man on the moon? Go to him. This is the first I have seen of him. Here, sitting. How many times have I done this. Just sat. Imagine all the people who have said—“Oh, can you see the man on the moon?” I like him better than God. Everybody says they have seen God. “I have seen God,” this is a familiar line.
There have been men who have done it with dolphins. Ask the man on the moon if he knows if these men have done it because they want to commune with an intelligent being. Ask the man on the moon if these men do it just because it feels good. Tell me you understand all of what I am saying so I don’t have to tell you that yes, men do it with animals.
He is a stroke of luck. I want to send you into the arms of the man on the moon. Yes, I am leaving you. Every day. Do not deny your foot is still growing. That bone, I take it back, is ugly. Ask the man on the moon if he is going to be like God and expect us to put up with these things. Show him what you are made of. Show him your teeth. They are the same as my teeth. They are the same as my father’s teeth.
So you are in love. You cannot sleep at night. Is this bigger than me having seen the man on the moon? Do not answer that. Neither of us knows. It is good to see you tuck your foot under your leg like that. Your mother skis outside around the house. She waves when she sees us sitting. She has bet the pregnant bitch will whelp ten. “You cannot take a dog with her pups,” your mother has told me. “If the food is low the others will eat the pups,” your mother has told me. I have not told your mother that I already know this. Tell the man on the moon I am a man with a guilty conscience. Tell the man on the moon I do these things nevertheless.
When you were young you could not say your name. Tell the girl you are in love with this and she will love you forever.Who can say he has truly seen the man on the moon? Go to him. This is the first I have seen of him. Here, sitting. How many times have I done this. Just sat. Imagine all the people who have said—“Oh, can you see the man on the moon?” I like him better than God. Everybody says they have seen God. “I have seen God,” this is a familiar line.
There have been men who have done it with dolphins. Ask the man on the moon if he knows if these men have done it because they want to commune with an intelligent being. Ask the man on the moon if these men do it just because it feels good. Tell me you understand all of what I am saying so I don’t have to tell you that yes, men do it with animals.
He is a stroke of luck. I want to send you into the arms of the man on the moon. Yes, I am leaving you. Every day. Do not deny your foot is still growing. That bone, I take it back, is ugly. Ask the man on the moon if he is going to be like God and expect us to put up with these things. Show him what you are made of. Show him your teeth. They are the same as my teeth. They are the same as my father’s teeth.
So you are in love. You cannot sleep at night. Is this bigger than me having seen the man on the moon? Do not answer that. Neither of us knows. It is good to see you tuck your foot under your leg like that. Your mother skis outside around the house. She waves when she sees us sitting. She has bet the pregnant bitch will whelp ten. “You cannot take a dog with her pups,” your mother has told me. “If the food is low the others will eat the pups,” your mother has told me. I have not told your mother that I already know this. Tell the man on the moon I am a man with a guilty conscience. Tell the man on the moon I do these things nevertheless.
Tell people that I am crazy. Tell people that I have seen the man on the moon—ask them if they can say that of themselves. Go to him. I am not one for signs. This is a sign.
Ask the man on the moon what will become of you. Tell him your father does not know. Lie to him. Tell him you are dying and you have to know. If he looks down at your foot, at your bone, what will you say? He will ask if you have been running away from your father. He will ask is that why you have come to the moon. He will ask your mother and she will say that she and you were sent by me to the moon. He will spread out his arms and he will say but there is nothing here. He will offer you only bread and water and you will be standing there holding Henry the gander, Blue by your side, and your mother standing still in her skis on the moon.
I will be sitting out here resting my hand in the dark on a place I will imagine to be your head, feeling your hair, but it will not be here. I will look up, I will see the man on the moon and I will see my wife on the moon and I will see my son on the moon.