(no subject)

[kelly_rae_2006]

Puddles of water
Become space-man's clouds
And they look for little people
& sunflowers.

The boundaries were lost
When writing the auto-biography
of science-fiction
We pierced our skin
Clambering over picket fences
Like lightning bolts of friction
Sent up from solid ground.

Pools of blood
Become space-man's sunset
And they photograph the beauty
for reference.

We crossed the boundaries
And filled all empty boxes with ticks
Whose heads are still buried
And the bites
Continue to itch
Despite there being
No back to scratch
That hasn't been scratched before.

One day space-man
Will discover gravity
The test-tube formula for touching solid ground
Will underestimate resistance
And space-man will be shot
Straight to the core
and be buried under Earth's pressure

Beneath the sunset clouds
& sunflowers.