I think Earth is supposed to hold pat in space,
I am here on a little dirt-patch, holding on,
and like Governor Palin long ago, I saw Russia one evening,
existing beyond my apartment picture-window –
A sip of Yuengling beer, sudden-scene of disobedient matter,
it was more than I could take that night.
Seated upon sofa, sky black, a couple of stars out,
maybe a lonely planet where life might be; T.V. was on,
CNN replay of lightning bolt strike upon St. Peter’s dome,
my bills were paid, grateful, knowing I too go off-course,
I held binoculars tight, gently focused east –
Atlantic Ocean first view, a Portuguese port,
brothel in Amsterdam, then a Carpathian Mountain traveler,
walking a shepherd-dog, they too saw something odd.
February 15, 2013, Russian-time 10:20 P.M. –
I called emergency 9-1-1,
wanted to inform local police department
about a meteor off-course, blazing across Siberian sky,
1,000 Chelyabinsk residents might be in danger,
9-1-1 Dispatcher requested I calm down, get a grip, he asked for
a taiga-address, “are structures down, people hurt?”
A long white-cloud stream across Ural Mountain horizon,
I could not see inside Chelyabinsk households,
only heard a Russian Orthodox priest mutter about portents,
he remembered Chernobyl (Wormwood) radioactivity,
the priest occasionally sipped vodka, and like me,
he often disappeared into forest-places beyond reason,
and all I could say to the 9-1-1 Dispatcher was,
Sir, I believe you should contact Vlad Putin for more detail.
Another swig of Yuengling,
the 1908 Tungaska event went down smooth,
I worried about dark cloud formation over Taylor Borough –
Who shall be next Pope of Rome?
Will the Federal budget ever balance, return to solvent orbit?
Shall Lady Gaga recover from injury?
Is that a drone passing over Scranton?
I want to absorb all CNN news, comprehend my prescription plan,
the happy passengers aboard Carnival Triumph are safe,
that’s all that mattered now; in small towns, meteors come and go,
talk of Hagee’s Rapture, life on Gaza, can this really be Dylan’s mobile end?
At hypersonic speed, estimated 40,000 mph, freaky-noisy,
(where were U.S. Space Police Patrols and radar guns?)
a bus-size rock fell harmlessly into frozen Chebarkul Lake,
likely murdered several fish.
FISH – that is Christ’s symbol of Mankind,
my neighbors tread through dangerous and polluted water,
Mr. Darwin thought I come from seven-Seas,
there are seven days created per week,
my Parish priest does not accept Mastercard, and here I am —
I look at the sky; it’s calm, Big Dipper at tipping point.
How high did Icarus fly ’til burn did he part,
how deep into living-water
fell irreverent rock from unfathomable space?