posing as a poet…

passing pericynthion again,
as far from the fact as we’re likely to get,
just rotating past the point-of-free-return.

Is this exploration
or just orbit?
They must be feeling invincible in Houston.
reflections of giant mirrors
supposedly teach us physics,
while on Earth
subtle manipulation takes
the place of conversation.

Does it seem irrational
to send conversations to a satellite
then back down to a point only
a few miles away from
the point of origination?

That’s just how things are done,
I’m told,
and not being any kind of authority,
I guess it must be true
that we reach the farthest point from home
when we’re closest to the Moon.

Flip-flops make rotten moon-boots,
and I forgot my helmet back at base.
But no matter,
by the time we pass pericynthion,
we’re already on the way back home.

By the time we split the atmosphere,
things were already cooling down.
Rest assured happy splashdown,
suspended under big parachutes
tugged towards the world of
geologists and seismologists,
but not astronauts.

You can’t rotate like that down here.
Gravity is a prison of sorts,
but equally enforced by mass,
useful inertia being a strong selling point
down here.

Thinking back to pericynthion,
but next time it will be someone else
at the controls.
The closest I can get is the launchpad;
It ain’t bad to watch and imagine,
but it ain’t the same as being there
for pericynthion.

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