ORIGINAL POEM: Spaceship's Block
This poem is for Political Party backer David Alex Lamb, who asked for a poem about moving. But of course, I had to be fancy and make it a poem about moving IN SPACE.



by Ada Hoffmann

Truth is, I haven't written a word

since the spaceship launched.

Pen in hand, I look out the porthole.

The galaxy slides by on rails,

unreal-smooth, these snowglobe stars

on bottomless black. Can these spirals,

this infinite black sparkle,

fit in a skull?

I roll back my eyes, I look for words,

and see black.

Sleep in this soft white berth,

an inch longer than my body.

Run in this hamster wheel

to keep up strength.

Read a century of novels.

Eat these plates, half-canned,

half-dried: stare across

at berthmates as empty as I am.

Or as full. Ears straining sideways

to fit between them the size

of the journey we chose.

All of us for the dream

of the landing to come:

when the blue-green globe looms up

and the air gusts in,

when fragrant alien grasses

brush us as we run.

When the blackness at last recedes,

and the words of a new world

leap into us.