Space Feeling Food

LORETTA HASKELL (Word Count: 664)
Whatcha gonna eat?
Wtf
Poetry of syllables
Vernacular
Lol
What’s real?
Birds scraping metal barbs
Against white dirt
Wolves cawing for
The orb
Unattainable
Fighting tides
Of fluffy
Space powder
What’s held?
Beneath the brush
Of blowing
Breezes
In tie-dyed
Hair strands
Fighting waters
Struggling mesas
Victorious flat lands
Glacier scraped
And
Scarred
To make
You
Believe
You’re too tall.
Winged metal tubes
Shooting stars
Roaring through
Atmospheric pressure
And
Kicking up
The ruins
Of
Gravity.
Heat your back
With the shoots
Of ultrasonic waves
Light
That cusps
You
In the neck
Human.
Homo-sapien
Neanderthal
Ape.
Contemplate
A brush
Thrush
And rushing
Yard
And find something
Totally
Uniquely
Subsequently
Man.
I see no reason
Why
Women
Do not
Rule the
World.

If there was something to hold,
For a minute
I think it would have to be a star.
Think about the gravity
Of a situation
Where you can reach out of the atmosphere
And grip a two dollar star.
Would you cup it
With the fingers
Or whisper against the palm?
Would you dash it to the waves
Or lovingly stuff it in an outside pocket?
Would you forget it
And sit on it
In the middle of dinner
Or would you cherish it
On your mantle?
What about using the rays
Of over bright light
To guide the people
Of lost worlds
Back to you
And sanity?
Where’s the fun
In that?

A morning dove
Was once cawing
And the parishioner’s found it less desirable
Than its little cooing counterparts.
What is there in a sound
That holds our rapture in one palm
And our contempt in the foot?

The paper
This day
Read about a man
Who was shot
And killed
In a church.
Who can you trust
And find your faith in
If you can’t find protection
In the house of the great
Protector?

Imagine a point in the line
Never ending
That holds your attention
For more than twenty milliseconds.
Now
Live on the speck
And scream out for soap
To cleanse the dot
For what you preserve it
To need
In your wisdom.
Now
Sit on it
And manifest
Your yearnings
For the next speck
That passes by.
Look around
And loathe the speckle
Long
For an alternate
Placing.
Now
Think back
And see
Where you came from.
In all your rubbing
And scheming
You tarnished the
Point
That captured your attention
For twenty milliseconds
Because it was just
What it was
Without you.

Vastness
And wholeness
We are not
But a freckle
On the rump
Of Eternal
Space Time.

Continuous creation
Soul
And formulas
Of matter
Whatcha gonna do
When it’s time
For reformulation
Of atoms?
I’ll jump off
Pizza
Slices
To keep
This form
Cosmic
Moments
Longer.

I saw the ghost of a man
Walking down Main Street
He didn’t pass
Without glancing
Left and right
If I knew what he was looking for
I would take that hand
And point it down the left road
But what if
He wasn’t looking for anything
But me?
Would I be dead?
Rearranged in bloodless form
Or am I dreaming?
Mentally degraded into sightless unreason
Perhaps
I didn’t see him
At All.
Lying prattle.
Fear grips us to nothing
Beyond fear.

There are places
All around the world
That possess no sound
Of humanity
Where getting lost
Is how you travel
And finding the road
Means you’ve gone too far.
What would you do?
In a place without you.
Tree castles
And monkey kings
The heralds of toucan’s
And gossip frogs.
Liberate
Conquer
Hold on too long?
Blushing before the tangerine
You might find
We aren’t so “human”
After all.

Many minutes
Do I think
That there’s something
I’m holding
Without knowing.
There’s too much
We’ll never understand.
Ignorance finds
Us
In every block of Existence.
I claim
That
That tree
Knows the cataclysm
Of space
Better
Than any man
Behind a glass
Eye tube.

Faith and food
Munch it up
Spat
And
Pizza,
American
Home base
And
Whatcha gonna eat?