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.
gravyfromthegazebo 
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
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Thank you Nick – it gets the madness out of the system! ‘Blatteroon’ is a perfect fit for this moment, yes! Thanks for visiting and take care, Mike
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