NPM 11 (Prayer?)

If there is a technospheric layer stuffed under the Earth’s crust

G-d let there be a techno-drone rippling out from Earth

Delight in an alien on their solar sail yacht

hearing your mum say she loves you bug.

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Superb

Here I am in all black with blue eyes and a fluorescent grin
And there’s Pete in all black, blue eyes a bright, wide grin.
And Owen—Owen is here, smart in black, blue eyes and grin.

She enters! We cannot help but face her and the place goes dark
except for our Cheshire Cat impressions. What—Justin? When did—
does he even know he’s grinning? What about those eyes—

Only only

Parse the weather (no walls, no canals)
what’s seen’s our bioluminesence.

Not our paths but the roadside fixtures
(though not the fixtures themselves).

Closer: no infrastructure. Networkers’ detrius.
The archeologist suggests: Leave everything,

thinking of their students’ students.
Gyres of threats and some apology.

We feared we’d freeze, and then we’d burn.
What we does rhymes with learn, but only only.

When I was young
we were running out of gum.

***

Today’s poem was prompted with a simple request: write about manmade creation seen from space. After protesting even the Great Wall’s visibility’s a myth, my partner pointed out the lights. Bless her. Also thanks to Ben Ladouceur for the bit about archeology.

Image source: NASA.

HEARTBROKE

 

you woke in the dark with the whole poem wrote

use your phone to notify your folk you found gold

THESE WORDS IMMORTALIZE OUR LOST IDOL

your folk alert theirs & soon everyone is awoke

audiences moss the planet—it glows!

all publishers abjure ownership & on every shelf

YOUR WORDS IMMORTALIZE OUR LOST IDOL

unto ouroboros, publisher & audience blur

Earth hums by mourning unto unity’s verge

near summoning Messiah’s arrival

OUR WORDS IMMORTALIZE THE LOST IDOL

& you are selfless, the viral ode’s origin

multitudinous, from all us, all at once

& as Earth’s turn exhausts,

our hearts slow & we dream

we dream no one

needs

immortality.