Hope in Space
Bob Hope in senile dementia,
attached to life support
by a high tech umbilical cord
floats
from a NASA space ship
On a portable computer hanging by
a strap from his neck
he writes his autobiography, last
will & testament
without the slightest clue about
the text strings he types
& he feels like a mosquito in
space—distracted
by
a mosquito in space
In
the memory bank he makes his last withdrawal
falling back
to his buddies in Cleveland
when
the city was smaller
& you knew your neighbors
racing down to the lake,
amber bottles & a bald tire in
mud,
the sun
rip rippling their eyelids
first mosquito
lights on the wrinkled water
as they flash
into wet holes & roll like buoys
pretending
to be Buck Rodgers in Lake Erie
spacemen
tumbling
in
the glassy womb
1999/2008 Phil Johnson
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