Monday, April 25, 2016

2016 NaPoWriMo Poem #25: Rec Room

There is no glamor
in this aspect of the job.
We spend our days
checking and rechecking
seals and gauges,
buried deep enough
to keep all the letters
of the Greek alphabet at bay.

We don’t play golf,
we don’t plant potatoes.
We use a high-tech xbox
to drive a rover where
we could never go
to prove that
humans are indispensible.

But I’ll let you in
on a secret.

We have a room
the size of the galley
filled knee-deep
in regolith.
on break
we strip down,
put on heat lamps,
and pretend we’re on
the world’s tiniest beach
(or another world’s, anyhow)
and run our fingers and toes
through the sand.

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