Sunday, August 31, 2008
Moon, magnificent mirage. Our shuttle hurtles wrongway, wobbly football, through asteroids.
So many candles are stars. The prettiest grave.
Ruby dear, the stars flutter and your gaze on
me. The prettiest grave.
John Wayne spits chaw
and drawls, Pardner, I hope ya bounce.
Mesosphere sears ship suit bones.
swirls ashes. Is that Australia?
Coffin missiles by. Oh