Tag Archives: Astronaut

Mars

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The real landscape of Mars isn’t red, not really. It’s the colour of a fox cub lying in a carpet of dry, auburn, autumnal leaves.

I’ve seen that fox… sometimes, playing, or staring directly into my eyes, searching for god knows what.

A creature clearly unaffected by the boiling, poisonous atmosphere; the fox would be almost entirely camouflaged if it were not thickly outlined by darker, Martian mountains, that appear bloodied and broken, like beaten gums.

On my last sighting of my impossible friend, the fox ambles towards me, and as I bend down stiffly to greet it, its head cocks to the right, and on anticipating my touch; crumbles like stale, birthday cake.

Surprise!

‘Well of course’ I speak morosely. I then return to my position with all the headlines, clinching a flag none the less; with all the feel and comfort of a dying hand in a useless glove.

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The Lost Astronaut Poem to Self

Have you ever felt your insides boiling in the heat of a Morning Martian sun?

Because, here you can explode immediately so I advise you to please not come.

There is a planet, just one along that’s a little cooler, with water a plenty.

But, I warn you now you won’t be welcome; you’ll be ripped open before some bastard counts to twenty.

So I advise you to stay at home or better still go somewhere else!

If you stumble across their alternate selves, remain very cautious; in another universe, man + man, still = nauseous.