There’s A Great Silence Down Here

I planned to go to Mars.
My enthusiasms set to eleven
years old, I engaged in scrapbooking
and a Face looked back.
It’s a trick of mind,
this wanting bigger
alien monuments than human
artifacts, a willingness
to disbelieve disbelievers
disbelieving everything
not set in stone.

I planned to go to Mars,
but the Moon was a promise kept
too many. We choose to go
to the ends of the Earth instead,
by fire and heat, melt and parching
confines of one sphere too few
to contain so many squares.

I planned to go to Mars,
but devils detail Death divining
skin holding one cubic person
of water, flesh, and contempt,
three dimensions of depth,
a fourth without time.

I planned to go to Mars,
but I’m afraid of falling up.
Falling down isn’t any easier.
Following everyone, who must fall,
implies a nonzero chance for pits.
There’s a Great Silence down here.
I plan to pack light.

#NaPoWriMo 2017 Day 30

Discussion:

That’s it! The last poem of Camp NaNoWriMo and NaPoWriMo 2017! It’s a bit of a downer; the long drive home after a fun weekend Disneyland and Disneyland California Adventure led to lots of thinking, alone, in the dark.)