Chandler films about New Orleans

Someone Else's Sunrise/These Words (with Magda Hiller streaming song only)

Reflections of Someone-else's Sunrise
(Thanksgiving 1999)
chandler

My friend told me that writing about the moon could not be done for there is nothing left to say
And anything else would merely be cliche',
But I say: that the day the troubadour stops being aroused by the moon
Is the day we surely are doomed...

...for she is full tonight,  brimming with the light of ten thousand broken hearts
voluminous in a vacuous sky.

She is rising over the broken chimneys
of this -- the last romantic city –
which rests below sea level --
below a great sea of sorrow.

Sometimes she is a slender sliver
seductive as a Victorian ankle
revealed beneath the yards and yards of starry fabric
known as twilight.

Or she is a burning bitch goddess in heat
or a half-whole darling in the median of her life span
neither looking ahead nor behind
nor concerned with her own waxing or waning
- complete in her incompleation.

But tonight she is a mournful trapeze artist born of an another broken heart
in some wayward vagabond circus
ascending the sky in her deceptive ensemble of sterling -
alluring, performing jugglery with the hearts of innocents.

I breathe her light through my pours
as a fish breathes through its gills underwater
for I am under an ocean of sorrow.

Only from a New Orleans balcony
over looking the  expanse of too may hearts gone hay-wire
can I inhale the bouquet of night,
which hangs heavy with your scent.

Her profuse skin reflects the splendor of a daybreak -
a new beginning  -- that is happening somewhere - all the time.  

She reflects somebody else's sunrise in my teardrops
and I wonder if you behold the added luster.

But it is the dawn of a dispirited tomorrow reverberates through my cosmos tonight
as you and I stare  up at her from river ways and balconies respectively.

How many times from the open road
have I affixed upon her and known that you -
half way across America -
beheld the same moon and I simply knew that you were thinking of me?  

The road lost its distance when the moon was full.
Seattle was a corner store.  
New York City, a local amusement park.  
Interstate 10 was your driveway.

But tonight the moon is full once again
and you really are only across town
and I look up to her and wonder if you too are looking up at her
and if you are do you think of me at all?