by Sean Ewing
He Seemed to Reach the Moon with His Laugh
̶ after Jose Hernandez Diaz
Lio told me each crater on the moon was the result of him laughing too hard. His laugh sounded like a cicada in a wind tunnel, but it was powerful enough to freckle Miss Luna’s face. I asked him to explain the three biggest craters I could see on the moon this evening. He pointed to each one and told me. The third largest was when a butterfly landed on the nose of his least favorite cousin, then took the nose away with a notably strong flap of its wings. The second largest was when he added edible glitter to challah bread dough and eating it made my grandmother sing the entirety of Madame Butterflybackwards for three days straight. The largest crater was formed the day I was born, and my father said I didn’t look like him at all. I asked him why that was funny. He said it’s because my father was jealous I had a nose, one that he couldn’t pull off and put on his face. Lio rustled my hair and told me I was always his favorite mariposa, since I alone could really get him to laugh these days. He’s certain I’ll be able to visit those craters someday and be able to bring my father’s nose back to Earth. I couldn’t help but chuckle at the idea, even as I saw dust shift on the moon’s surface.
Alex Carrigan (he/him) is a Pushcart-nominated editor, poet, and critic from Alexandria, VA. He is the author of Now Let’s Get Brunch (Querencia Press, 2023) and May All Our Pain Be Champagne (Alien Buddha Press, 2022). He has appeared in SoFloPoJo, Cotton Xenomorph, Bullshit Lit, HAD, fifth wheel press, and more. Visit carriganak.wordpress.com or follow him on Twitter @carriganak, Instagram: @akcarriganak Bluesky: @carriganak.bsky.social.
Sean Ewing is a visual artist inspired by nature’s quiet interplay of light and shadow. His work captures fleeting beauty and offers a contemplative refuge, inviting viewers to pause, reflect, and find calm amid the noise of daily life.