Campbell's Travels
I looked around
the room
and my poetic eyes
grew big:
Posters were just
postage stamps
The door,
but a chocolate
bar
I punched a hole
in the
paper-thin wall
Lifted off the
roof
like it was a book
And stood up and
surveyed
my new toy world
All around me,
tiny models
I could have
destroyed
Save for my
feeling of guilt
at stepping on
aunts, and uncles
I stomped out into
the ocean,
which soon seemed
a mere puddle
I left the Earth
behind,
and started
playing marbles with the stars
Until the heat of
the explosions
became too much
for my mind to take
And I realized
again I was
only a poet in
this cafe
Wanting to create
something
larger
than my life
Gone Too Far
For
billions of years
Something
small has swum
In
my vast wet belly
When
footsteps first stepped
On
my skin I welcomed them
…
tickled with pleasure
Then
thunderous lizards
Stomped
over my dermis
A
mere 165 million—nary a change
But
now in this last blip
Of
a few hundred decades
These
opposable-thumb re-facers
Have
reshaped my face
Pouring
concrete on top, placing
Buildings,
I occasionally shake off
How
long can those destroyers
Possibly
continue as they hurt
My
breathing, dirty my fluidity
All
I can do is let Papa Time
Take
care of my problems
As
he always has, always wills
Far Away, So Close
A shadow
on the surface
is a vehicle
The rover has
many pink eyes
to capture sights
Mount Sharp
taller than
Mount Whitney
Heat the soil
a bit of water
vapor escapes
A torn piece
of plastic detritus
amongst the pebbles
Tire treads
on the rusty
dirt plain
Tintina crushed
under Curiosity’s wheel
reveals white ex-water inside
Dune sands
one meter deep
easier than sharp rocks
Horizontal beds
near the edge
of an ancient lake
Layers of mountain
like pages
in a book
Dig in and find
hematite (iron-oxide)
food for microbes
Methane in the air
Organic molecules
in the rock
There’s a
blue sunset
every night
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