The Cosmonaut

the cosmonaut’s empty living room

he is not in space

he is in the kitchen

looking out at the garden

with all its peaceful atoms

gently riven

gently riven

bounding energy

the smallest constituent parts filling all the space

this is not the space the cosmonaut had anticipated

a farmhouse kitchen? he would have preferred a more stainless-steel-meets-white-lines situation

and I’m sick of reading sick of reading sick of / i want a story and a news with people of another name / i want to know people outside this language / i understand it but it doesn’t have to be mine / better jet off / better the room and accelerated death / but 2001’s past and we are stuck, equal

the cosmonaut’s reading room
is a story of space
of reading sick and accelerated travel
upwards, hopeful, like automatic atomic
bodily constitution

the garden is earth
the kitchen a window
and looking down is
looking out

a thought lies dead in space
the death of a thought
is the death of
all things he stands for,
sitting down

the cosmonaut carves his
her
their
thoughts into the kitchen table

stuck here:
indefinite thought
finite space
atoms to atoms
dust to dust

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the cosmonaut loses
itself
in space

the thoughts of an ape
replacement
sits down at the kitchen table
and sees the garden

the cosmonaut is a monkey
in her dreams

the cosmonaut floats out into the garden

the gravity is different than the kitchen

heavier

he is floating

2 millimeters above the grass

above the ants and bugs and atoms

barbecue lights up

the smoke

the fog

a space ship now

unemployed astronaut seeking cosmonaut partner

please come quick

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the cosmonaut is unsure about love
but he remembers the warmth of a little star,

and he sits in a crater and looks at
that little twinkle who belongs to no one.

the moon shifts and glows underneath his space suit, whispering the best she can,
look how I glow for you, look how I spin for you!

he thanks her for the light, for the warm bed
but the cosmonaut does not kiss any of her scars
does not leave a flag.

floating, in his earthly garden
looking, at the night sky

looking, of course
but rarely at her.

the cosmonaut continues floating until it reaches the atmospheric layer

the layer is light, as pressure goes, within the suit

the cosmonaut reaches the first cloudless band of space

the cosmonaut is cold

the cosmonaut sees no moon, no sun, no earth

the cosmonaut valves

allows herself to expand, slowly into an empty living room

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The dark seeps in and stretches out,
dissolving eyelids
and lung lining
and kneecaps
and bedsheets

Continues through walls,
melts glass,
holds blades of grass
Cool and safe
Suspended to the horizon.

The planet did not ask for this.

Intrusion.

The planet would think it rude, if it had thoughts.

If it had thoughts it would think that it ought to be left alone.

Untampered.

If it had thoughts it would think that everything on it was not necessary.

Irrelevant.

But they come. Ruin. Attack. Degrade.

Whatever happened to Harmony?

Harmony.

(Harmony is so nice).

this is how they get you

this is where they find you

hiding in an alcove

inching toward you in a noise

Have smashed a window in the caravan

may wait for you by the duck pond

may wait for you in the duck pond

do i have your permission to proceed?

you may proceed

master, i will now proceed

mouth “thank you” to me

but they are mouthing “i’m sorry”