Shop Loot Crate
2007
04.20

After twenty million stars and I’m still no closer
These hands dipped in magnetic rings resonant with moonlight
Feel nothing
One hundred offers of peace to the enemy
And one hundred one rejections with a bullet
I’ve read books to please women.
Women please me to please the books.
A friend drew himself together and with one mighty < bang > erased himself with the rubber end of a shotgun.

I see a star — a tiny orangish tear – celestial tracer rounds
And I run
I find nothing
Then another falling star
And I run
I find nothing again
So, this time I just run.

An astronaut sits alone half white with sun and half black with space
There is no noise
He holds a glove a up and grayish dust slowly falls
He looks to the blackest point he can see.
In his ear he hears, “DANGER!! Oxygen Low! DAN—
He overrides the rational and for 18 minutes sits in peace.