Ponderable polemics, poetic

WordPress site of poet Mark Lucker

first man on the moon

  • 3:22 P.M.

    Smiling broadly from the bottom step from yellow-and-black command ship my forty-two pound, thirty-seven inch Neil Armstrong plops dustily down Successful touchdown, Tranquility base. Home, The Eagle has landed. Perfect timing; his silver-and-black supply case is depleted, as is he. Time to replenish, explore local terrain, relax, recount the day’s adventure Pausing, he then runs Read more