Cubist Roller Skates/Soundless Space


The velocity of a poem-asteroid 
Is elliptical alliterations.


Locals call the moon, Charlie Knuckles,
Who brought a fork and spoon into the desert. 

(Because of this I jumped into the ocean. 
And took my name from a turn in the road.) 


The dismal diameter
Bleak around

No matter how many megaphones
Without an atmosphere

The moon can't hear what it cannot say


Data is finite.


And yet, 

We crossed
The sea

And found the inaudible
Screams of the moon,

Buds on spring trees.


You were silent all though the movie.

Only once, I heard you say,

"The crimson sky over the city dump, the cosmonauts are a tree line."

You see the wire that holds the celestials, 

The magnetic ghosts in cubist roller skates.    

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