The Rhyme of the Ancient Space Mariner

Symbols can be so beautiful, sometimes. — Kurt Vonnegut






“A pageant of asteroids, see, growing there, silent,

rolling sheethingness it was. I caught a sight

of a violent sputnik – three hammocks thrashed

into craters, were savaged, ions and gamma rain –

some giant had gas. I tried to imagine white confetti,

white confetti had been in the slopes, nesting

mollminds bogged down. I knew their names,

any one of them. The moons of Mars mauled us fast,

& the mist us a whole. It was a weird mountain

heaving, growing out of space. It was strewn 

with fantastic fissures as though shapers had scoured

it with a particle beam, sculptured by vac to sprinkle

its sleet and hailyhawk, I guess. How many lightyears

this one? Chiselling, by & by. They were in all savage

enough to hit out on a tee like c-speed in the dark of space.”









Peter Bies © 2010



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