Saturday, August 9, 2008

In Space No One Can Hear You Scream

(I Am)
An Astronaut

i move through morning darkness,
an astronaut
defying the gravity
of the situation:

3:23 a.m. and already awake
forgotten coffee on a counter
hot humid hurried car ride
the sterile/unsterile air of cigarette smoke and freon
static AM radio waves of buzz-click-slip
the Doppler shift of orange construction cones
the crude GPS of a 'Fines Doubled' sign just before my exit
a Pavlovian bell sounding in my head
along with my own dull voice,

turn left into same parking lot
turn right into same parking space

landed but lost in space
floating in space
between the living
and the dead-end job of
timelines, deadlines, and time clocks
ticking in unison
with machines in sync reciprocating
while men in grey flannel suits finish resuscitating
my lifeless body
in a 100% pure oxidizing environment
coaxing one more orbit
from the rusted Sputnik of my soul

"Houston, we have a problem."

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