Fantasy/Sci-Fi

Laura Kasischke

The broom closet to another planet. 

 The impending（即将发生的） planetary disaster. 

 The children in their maniac（发狂的） 

 trances（恍惚，出神）. The rockets. 

 The neighbors. The 

 openmouthed spectators. The boy 

tumbling into the bottomless well. 

 There, the cornstalks（玉米秆）. The rooster 

 at the center of the earth. 

 And also on Mars. 

 Backward, the familiar landmarks. 

 And the plain voice 

 which spoke your name 

in the middle of the night 

 on that long drive through Nebraska. 

 You just kept driving. What 

else could you do? Slow down? 

And your father who made you 

 by spilling his billion stars into the dark, while 

 crying out to your mother 

 as the sea washed her up on the shore 

 in the 1960s 

 with her long hair and her 

 vegetable recipes. And 

you, small package of meat and dream. 

And Beethoven, who lived 

 and died 

 deaf. Music. 

 Oblivion. 

 The kitten 

named Sally, alive 

 for an hour. Then 

 dead, forever. 

Dead forever. 

 Nowhere, the beginning. 

 Nowhere, the end. 

 Like ours, her eyes 

 never even opened. Like 

 her, do we 

have any idea 

 where we are? 

 Where we were? 

 Where we're going? 

 Even yesterday? 

 Even today.