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I am racing like stars from you
You who gave me the slingshot

I am searching what you call
"The Heavens". No firmament

Has revealed itself to me as yet.
I chatter to you with radio talk

From day to night to day to night
Each planet I see grabs me tight

And throws me like space dust
To the next. Neptune was especially

Skilled at that. I am expecting nothing
Pluto mumbled something about loneliness

And utter, utter blackness as he lanced me
From him. Before this string between us

Snaps with the strain of time and space
I would like to know: will you mourn me?

© David Incoll 2001

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Copyright by David Incoll 2001