poem



Voyager 1 is the farthest human-made object from Earth.
There are lots of people alive and dead.
My son tells me facts while I drive a car through traffic jamming early evening.
The sun is perfect against the window.
We are warm and there is nowhere we need to be this night.
So we will eat al fresco and drink ginger ale.
There will be a red giant phase of the sun.
I know things. His eyebrows raise.
I want to hold him so tightly,
so he knows what my love feels like.

We speak of supernovas.
I am full of information from a science program last Tuesday.
I impress the riders of the car.
If you could open my body up
unzip me
you could see the act of explosion
my heart
not the real pumping blood one
but the one we fancy to believe in
the soft heart
the love bomb
it explodes
for you
and it is here and there and everywhere
I see my son point his finger towards the sky
we all sing to the radio
the sun gives halos
we all are fine

photo source