Third rocky relationship from the sun; Earth Day 2013



In the morning she says she is thirsty,
crying like a baby born in Hades
(which isn’t unexpected;
she’s a newborn rock,
sun-baked third child,
burned by a hot-tempered mom)
for a Robin Hood with a stash of good Aloe.
Her chapped Hadean face
patched by lakes of lava band aids
could be glimpsed as far away as
the outer orbit of the solar system
(which as anyone knows
is an awkward way to meet a date).

But I see her parched crust
from the sawdust of the asteroid belt
and it’s love at first sight,
or lust at the very least.
Comets streaking like a fraternity after finals,
I head her way armed with
my greatest pickup line;
something like “Gneiss cratons.”

By the time I arrive at
(read: crash land into/crater/impact)
the planet, I’m late to the heavy bombardment party.
Gaia already sneezed herself a moon
and grew laugh lines
wider than my landing site.

In the afternoon,
the skies darken (my fault)
and though we don’t go
on a red-checkerboard picnic date
we spend the hottest part of the day
making life while the sun shines.

We see the insides of cells
and different species like coral snakes
who do not drink me at all
to people who mix me with breath and syrup
and stuff me into metal cans
or scorched sand containers
because I taste bland
but she says I taste like seaweed
and I say she smells salty
and she pushes me into the sky
but soon becomes thirsty and
I fly back to the surface a million,
billion times and freeze when she has a fever
and steam when her mantle touches me

I know what you’re thinking,
this relationship is way too serious
and is moving way too fast
for a conservative galaxy
to feel anything but uncomfortable
and we’d better not stay out past midnight
because that’s our curfew
and you know what kids do
when the sun isn’t watching
but there’s no need to worry
for the kind of life we create
is like a blanket fort in the middle of an earthquake;

it won’t last.

One thought on “Third rocky relationship from the sun; Earth Day 2013

Say something, Crazy Reader!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s