Thursday, August 12, 2021
Friday, August 6, 2021
Tuesday, March 23, 2021
032321
Red Rover
The crater was old,
No eyes saw it
When the river cut through
Its eroded rim,
Building a delta of silt and mud
Under the moons and stars.
Time passed,
The river shrank to a trickle, then nothing.
Wind-blown sand dunes
Worked and reworked
The lake’s desiccated bed.
100,000 millennia later,
Perseverance pays off,
Tracks mark troughs between the dunes,
A probe penetrates here and there.
Enzymes slick the probe,
Corrode the AI’s housing;
No life on Planet Four,
But a fair imitation
Kills the rover dead.
Wind covers tracks; nothing but sand
Moves on desert Mars.
Saturday, March 6, 2021
030621c
the latest hotrod
drops in from numero 3
you don't give up, do you?
030621b
the robot truck
jounces to a stop
on the lake bottom
Martian 0
Wednesday, February 24, 2021
022421c
Perseverance strikes water
dormant metalophiles find the feast
of a billion years
Monday, November 9, 2020
110920c
body language
which face do I look at
on this Martian cop
Sunday, November 8, 2020
110820c
thawing
a martian lake
I look for life
Saturday, September 12, 2020
091320
Red Planet Bar--Closing Time
dare –
too
many
kids have sex
outside Mars 1 Dome
the pain of burning airless screams
crystal eyes adorn rigid corpses on dawn’s cold dunes
Wednesday, September 2, 2020
090220b
screaming face
on the Martian's shirt
hint or warning?
Thursday, April 2, 2020
040220b
bright
summer sun
parched brown grass
first
drops in
a billion years
Earth
steps in
Mars wakes up
look
up at
the brown planet
Sunday, March 22, 2020
032220e
When Psis Do Crime
any flat surface
I'll make it hot enough to
fry that Martian's head
after he tell us where it's
hid, or after he refuse
Sunday, March 15, 2020
031520e
031520
Mars doesn't have trees
leave the wood carving tools
and Lemon Pledge
Monday, February 17, 2020
021720d
Saturday, November 23, 2019
112319c
Thursday, November 14, 2019
111419
Rip van Winkle on Mars
I'd dreamed a Martian tundra:
tussocks, tiny flowers--
I guess I overslept
Dome open to the thin cold sky,
rooms agape, no thing left behind,
a burn mark where the lander crouched
is their goodbye
out back a midden: wrappers, boxes;
hunkering, I see a bit of gray-green mold
inside a plastic wrap,
company is good, but for companionship
I'll need to wait a few billion years.
I could use a nap.
If you like this poem, check out my recent collection, Metastable Systems. This and many other recent SF, fantasy, & horror poems are found therein.
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/760901
Sunday, October 20, 2019
102019b
Phobos loves Deimos
they're so close
but forever far
Thursday, October 3, 2019
100319
in Martian winter
earmuffs are not enough
can't wait for global warming
Thursday, September 26, 2019
092619b
On Mars we found
new kinds of rocks
never seen on Earth
Just kidding
Mars looks exactly like
our planet will in a thousand years
unless we get our act together
and stop wrecking the place