
Moon Rant
Here I am
a cheddar searchlight in the sky
waiting for the arrival of man
with his small steps and giant leaps,
his garbage can machines,
his religion, his culture, his competing ideologies,
his self-aggrandizements, his bragging rights, his racism,
his greed, his pomposity, his self-importance,
his astronauts named “Buzz”.
I tell you, colonization never works out for the colonized.
I have no desire to be turned into a destination for space tourists
or a land fill or, more accurately, a moon fill.
What’s in it for me?
Where’s the re-mooneration?
They say that nature abhors a vacuum
well, I can handle a vacuum
it’s vacuity, I abhor.
This is a rework of a previous post prompted by a challengea while back from Sarah over at dVerse to write a piece of prosery, of flash fiction (limit 144 words) incorporating the phrase “I dreamt I was the moon” from a poem by Alice Oswald.
Taking part in Open Link over at dverse.
