Chicano Poet

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

The Final Frontier

Grissom pulled the lever and sank the capsule,
the deep sea fish had never longed for space before.

Astronaut Heidi lost her tool bag,
and with it the grease guns to lubricate black holes.

Luckless probes crash into Mars,
those which were supposed to land softly like your breasts.

The moon, it turns out,
is quite devoid of cheese, & therefore of meese.

We’ll have to survive on something else
when we colonize it.

We’ll have to purify our own waste products.
The garbage disposal will serve us lunch.


...be back Monday...