space shuttle breakfast
we ate the shine off soda cans
& took turns spinning the sun.
stars that swarmed in our heads.
i said i did not want to be
an expedition but there i was
one that back of a great jupiter beetle.
everything reflected in my eyes.
you took a spoon to my irises
to fish out the space junk.
we laid on our backs. used the moon
as a golf ball & talked about
our childhood rooves. mine was slanted
& my father would climb up there
to shout at god. when mom wasn't home
i would join him or i would record
the whole thing on a video camera.
have you ever thought about how
the past sits like a burned disc.
the sound of a dream booting up.
we took strolls out to where
news headlines paces as jaguars.
i never believed in god but especially
not after i saw the solar system.
every celestial body in fishnets
or lace. they beckoned & i blushed.
covered my face. ate my freeze-dried
love poems until it would soon be time
to return to orbit. to the grinning grass
& hotel rooms with the last guest's food
still in the mini fridge.
a gust of wind tosses pollen
from the fists of the trees.
what i miss most about the shuttle
was the weightless way
we could cry & watch the tears depart
as glass beads.