Boris’ Moonshot

The moon does
have its own pull, more poetic lore
than its iron core

and a gravity formed
from the debris of its astronomical
birth; more like

another mutant
on the block of hopeless metaphor.
We have been there before

because it is,
and within a shot as achievable
as that is too:

I mean,
phenomenal. So this terrestrial aim
is no more than name in

being unfeasible,
more like a photo op than an orbit
to attain, more Luna

than the tic
tock of a countdown that will fail;
poetry that rhymes

just for how it sounds.
There is no fury, and the basic bore
is just this.

2 thoughts on “Boris’ Moonshot

  1. Hi Mike … enjoying your ‘topical’ poems and posts! Hope all is well. Thought you might like this .. I did… Susie Dent’s Word of the day is ‘blatteration’, 16th-century speak for foolish babbling or prattling, committed by a ‘blatteroon’.

    Cheers Nick

    Sent from my iPhone

    >

    Like

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