Moonman by Kevin Zepper
"Whether Kevin Zepper is writing about boys at a track workout, a daughter he never had, children playing with matches, or a marmoset at the zoo, he is a poet who celebrates the beauty as well as the humor in everyday life. Personal, poignant, sometimes surreal, his poems are always heartfelt, accessible, and entertaining. He is the kind of a poet you will want to read not once, but again and again."–Nin Andrews, author of Sleeping with Houdini (American Poets Continuum) and Miss August (Notable Voices).
Finalist in the 2019 NM/AZ Book Awards for 6x9 Cover Design (cover design by Denise Weaver Ross)
Poetry Playhouse Publications
Paperback, 6 x 9
70 pages
"Whether Kevin Zepper is writing about boys at a track workout, a daughter he never had, children playing with matches, or a marmoset at the zoo, he is a poet who celebrates the beauty as well as the humor in everyday life. Personal, poignant, sometimes surreal, his poems are always heartfelt, accessible, and entertaining. He is the kind of a poet you will want to read not once, but again and again."–Nin Andrews, author of Sleeping with Houdini (American Poets Continuum) and Miss August (Notable Voices).
Finalist in the 2019 NM/AZ Book Awards for 6x9 Cover Design (cover design by Denise Weaver Ross)
Poetry Playhouse Publications
Paperback, 6 x 9
70 pages
"Whether Kevin Zepper is writing about boys at a track workout, a daughter he never had, children playing with matches, or a marmoset at the zoo, he is a poet who celebrates the beauty as well as the humor in everyday life. Personal, poignant, sometimes surreal, his poems are always heartfelt, accessible, and entertaining. He is the kind of a poet you will want to read not once, but again and again."–Nin Andrews, author of Sleeping with Houdini (American Poets Continuum) and Miss August (Notable Voices).
Finalist in the 2019 NM/AZ Book Awards for 6x9 Cover Design (cover design by Denise Weaver Ross)
Poetry Playhouse Publications
Paperback, 6 x 9
70 pages
Moonman
The snow fills our driveway and backyard. Mom says it’s too cold to play outside, even without a northerly wind. She bundles me in layers: long underwear, socks, overshoes, coat, long scarf, and thick gloves. I walk off the back porch, moving slowly in the calm cold. My breath draws slowly through the cotton scarf, warming the sharp oxygen. My boot prints are the only ones in the driveway and yard. I see the ground covered with white dust and think of Armstrong’s walk last summer. I woke up early to watch cartoons that morning, with my red-checkered bathrobe, peanut butter sandwich, and very wide eyes. No Jonny Quest, but astronauts landing on the moon. This world melts away and the rolling gray lines on the TV become my lunar porthole watching Armstrong’s walk, the slow low-gravity solo stroll. I hold my breath as he moves his gloved hand off the stairway of the capsule, standing on the soft lunar sand. Today, I am a moon man. I look across this powder-white landscape, sole witness in the Arctic desert yard. A foot of fresh snow tugs at my boots as I double-check my cloth helmet and imaginary goggles. All of the fences and trees fade and my only focus is the lunar dust I walk through. In the afternoon sky, the ghostly sun hovers evenly in the south. My right boot presses slowly into a patch of smooth, waiting white, sending me to the ghost world above.
About the Author:
Kevin Zepper, MFA teaches writing of all kinds at Minnesota State University Moorhead. He is the author of four chapbooks. He is currently circulating his first book length manuscript, ghostworlds. He was recently awarded a writing residency at Starry Night Artist Retreat in Truth or Consequences, New Mexico. He resides in Moorhead, Minnesota with his wife, boys and Bichons.
