SPACE assignment.

Space Man Passes Pluto

uses his compass and a venn diagram
to navigate a place with no up or down.
He isn’t worried per se,
in his brushed chrome rocket,
that he will get lost. He is already lost
and the worst hasn’t happened yet,
he doesn’t know what the worst is.
He eats little silver tablets,
does fifty push-ups every day, and waits
for further instructions.

Comments

  1. I really like the the last three lines. The routine is a nice touch.

    The first two lines are awesomely cluttered. But I'd like that clutter to be teased out. What does the venn diagram direct with no cardinal directions? that's neat. There's a lot of ideas right there, but they're sorta jumbled up together in a miasma. and it's not the sexy kind of unknowing you do so well YET, but it's close.

    I love his brushed chrome rocket. why wouldn't i?

    I feel like the narrator really gets up in here with the per se, and the "he is already ---> the worst is." i've no problem with a cosmic overload descending on this poem, I just don't really know what those lines are doing. I know he's lost from the first two lines, and I know there's lingering dread from the poem itself. 'He eats little silver tablets" is insidious enough. That gives me a physical sense of this fear. I guess it's important that i know that he's not worried? I dunno. I feel like your language really gets sucked in for those three lines, right in the middle.

    but the image of ingesting those little silver tablets is weirdly haunting to me. like, my gag reflex is weirdly active right now. nice work s-bone. i give you the comments in an attempt to be a useful human being, no more no less.

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