Яockets In Яetrograde

Graffiti in Vitoria-Gasteiz Creative Commons

They told him it couldn’t be done;
“Pressurized, Atomized, hemolyzed…
That launchpad’s a loaded gun!”
His life so turned and satirized

But he didn’t care,
Not even for a second
He just…


Sixty seconds until tomorrow
“T-minus Fifty-nine, fifty-eight, fifty-seven…”
One’s lonely cockpit, a star-brought borrow
“Thirteen, twelve, eleven…”
But he didn’t care,
Not even for a moment
He just…


The final ten
“He’s mad, we have to stop this!” 
But for him eternity was about to begin
For sake of stars, his soul’s remiss

But he didn’t care,
Not even for a blink
He just…


“We have liftoff!”

Roaring booster
Quaking metal
Smoldering ground

“Rocketman is a-go!”

And as the boy looked up
Out the window of his cardboard ship,
Imagining static boops and a single beep
He knew that on a distant tomorrow,
Somewhere over those lightyear yesterdays,
He would take one giant leap

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