Whoosh, whoosh, the Center
revolts. It is that Center that
spins. It spins past the sound
barrier. There are constant ripped,
fragmented, echoing sounds. Above the
ground. Or, at least, the ground thinks
so. And those drawn electrons spinning,
non stopped momentum. Faster than that
speed of sound. Approaching, ever
increasing, towards the speed of light.
And those electrons. Shooting
into. Shooting out of that Inner E = MC
squared speeding ring. That Ring’s Mass
times the Speed of Light Squared, no it broke the Speed of Light. It is going greater than that Speed of Light
and its definition of Energy is its Mass times its greater than that Speed of
Light Squared. Speeding Middle. Its electrons clouding not by movement. Its electrons structurally poled back into
that Outer Ring. That Inner Ring wanting
more and more. The Outer Ring giving
more and more. Leaving that Middle more
than either, rotating, electron murres, electron placements.
Suceedingly shooting through speed
of sound walls, bracing, enlightening by an eon long wave of lightening
flashing towards the jealous neutron constant and non chemically active ground
stabilizer and sturdier. Sturdied not by
degrees but sturdied by infinity. You
pass that speed of light and you are enshelled by a dimension everywhere along
your dimensional horizon, its right arm right angling you to perpendicular
existence. Your life is a tangent.
And the life I meet and the life I
mess are the chemical argon cloud attractions that by chance pushed above the
surface. Held in by gravity. Sedimented by gravity. The striation of ammonia.
Middle ring, neutral charged as in
their constant acceptance and expulsion of charges, the soda of chemicals. Or is that constant exceptance, because it is
constantly changing. It does not keep a
charge so it does not have a charge. The
rusts, the carbonates, the air bubble mixtures, in this case Calcium Carbonate.
We discussed How To Make A Living:
Moon Rover Me Oh My
One of the guys,“The man in the moon
talking to me, ‘The See Of Tranquility.
When I am meditating, calming my insides, I observe the universe through
my See Of Tranquility. My Moontra to the
Universe is Oh Man God Damn I Am Moon.’’’
Then I said, “The Sea of
Tranquility. That is where Neil
Armstrong established our Moon base Alpha.”
And the Moon Guy, “I thought your
Star Wars were about men like me, always welcoming people to the Dark Side.
“I do eat up the energy our Sun
sends us. I eat, feed, consume once a
month. Then all I can do is sit and let
my fat belly out. Two weeks ago, yesterday, boy was I a full Moon!”
Later in the talk the Man in the
Moon said, “Remember in 1969 when Apollo 11 landed on me and that Neil
Armstrong said, ‘One small step…’? And then in 1971, Alan Shepard from Apollo
14 took his six iron and started hitting golf balls around? Well that sort of stuff really got under my
skin. You guys are a bunch of Luna
Ticks.”
And I just thought “Even a Moon who
shines in the Dark and eclipses the Sun like Night
May make tides at Noon and wash away
the Dunes
When he is taken too Light. Or is he taken into the Light?”
That seemed to
tide us over for a while.
But then one of them said, “I’ve
been visiting Earth a lot lately.
‘Moonlight becomes me, it lengthens my lair.’
So, I am listening to all of
this. I am taking notes but I will not
believe it when I read it over, afterwards.
Even asking myself what a dinosaur evolved into did not prepare me for
me observing life on another planet. I
assumed too much.
And they kept going on, “Earth’s
gravity keeps me face forward. Extreme
heat versus extreme cold makes me turn in Earth’s order. But I get back at the Earth. One does not win all.
“I may not be the strongest. I know that I cannot force your steadfast,
your Stallworth. But I can and do
contend your water. Sure, you might take
your bricks and sand and build a dam.
You might dig in, explode, shovel out a canal or two. How about a canal between two of your oceans? You might even over pollute, you with your
lost ozone layer and your greenhouse gas effects. You make those efforts on the Ice Bergs to
melt and the Sea Levels rise.
“Yep, you may have committed
suicide, forcing your world and its lives to suck in your factory waste. But I make the tides. I wash your coastal areas, and now, your new
coastal areas, with your oil sludge and plastic spoons and all sorts of never
decaying garbage.
“At your nighttime I pull your
garbage spouts up and over what little farmland you have left. And, as if I care, I tsunami your Atlantic
Oilshun. As if I care, I drown your Seattles
and your L A s and San Franciscos with outhouse poop, coal poop, and Kook
Brothers poop. Guess what I can do to
you perturbatively?
“Am I getting under your skin? Well, I have been for millenniums. You complain that I have bile! I have your bile. I have your spit. I have your gastric juices. And I have your blood. Call me a Vampire. That’s why Lugosi came out at Night! Your heart’s blood is made of water. And water obeys me! Your blood cells, your Hemoglobins, your
braincells. They feel my pull. I command them. They do what I force. I am the command of the Moon.
Then I said to him, “You flew by
that Moon today, Oh Boy.” I then tore my
spacesuit off. “You better start
practicing by putting some magnets on top of each other. Measuring them. Checking the angles. Starting the Gyroscope. And then you shoot off your toy rocket. That is how you teach yourself and that is
how you got us on our journey out here.
“What could I do? No numbskull had done this before. Talk to an alien. How could I practice? I read.
I read Doctor Livingston. I read
Doctor Goodall. I read Doctor Feel Good,
Doctor Seuss and Doctor Dolittle.”
Now the Moon Guy interjected again,
“This is like finding life in the rings of Neptune.”
To which I said, “You will
definitely Find life on Earth and it is definitely not us.
“You got us a mile tangent from the
Moon. Three miles back you previously
shot the opposition thrusters to lower our speed, that third mile, matching the
Moon’s rotation (calculating, extending the surface a mile up). The speed is matched. We are up there in our Moon’s sky. Our momentum makes me feel like I’m at the
top floor of the Prudential Sky Scraper viewing the surface and then I step
into the elevator to get to the ground floor.
“Then at floor one, I step, I walk,
I kneel on one knee. Watching that
horizon. Clear. Empty.
Outwards towards the red light of Mars.
It is steady. It is
unchanging. It’s movement across the
skyscape is left to right but at it is height, as a crack appears three feet in
front of my right knee. And the
temperature reading collection on my suit goes from Sixty-Five degrees below
Water Freezing up to a balmy Seventy-Three degrees above. That ground crack, that autumn warmth, that
slight gravitational slide of the powdered iron silicate silt, about thirty-two
ounces of particles, thirty-two ounces that could not do that on their own.”
And then they heard my voice within
my breath preserving pressurized suit adjusting to take in this intrusive
frequency, “Yes, it is me. Well, it is
I. It is one of us, anyway.”
My friends and
I don’t talk about everything. Who does
anyway! Really!
I hope you read this I hope you liked this I hope you like some of THESE
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