Leaving Soon

I leave where I’m living soon
but there is no other planet
to stand on, not yet,

Mars
perhaps waits in the margins
of these envelopes
but no one wants to look inside

if we did, however
we might find an orbital shadow
swinging round the centrifugal pulse

of the
son, the one
language nailed to the intersection
street light

which, every time
changes colors, announces
to the crickets

to bow to it
and make amends with screech owl sacrifices, of
course few actually do this, the
one’s who

actually do
are insane, and the one’s
who do not, the

majority of us, are
considered

theoretical

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