March

Issue 42

As our world prepared to die, spacers on five-masted schooners worked to save its mementos--us-- for transport to a promised land Even their mottled leviathans could not carry a whole planet We drew lots to see who would remain to serve the sun-king in his tomb I readied to pop my little black pills, opting to miss the universe's glory, but instead I dreamed of a mansion with ever-multiplying rooms, sheltering the millions from the conflagration that was to come I awoke and hastened to the sky-wharfs I saw multitudes streaming onto the ships The spacers' sails stretched-- holds expanded to fit all comers The mystery and the truth carried us home