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I think about the Moon, it’s too expensive

We don’t even know what the market is


For all its dubious glorious resistant eternity

Is it a marriage proposal 


in the tender lunacy of  lunar dust

a picture of what’s unattainable  to send 


a blind-sided beloved for fun

back on Earth


a time capsule filled with remnants

of some kinds of life, strands of hair


----and DNA---DNA to spare

on its way to our one and only Moon


where we will persist for another while

all pristine in its airless air


Cyclotron’s, tornadoes in the spring, minefields, coal trains, tree roots, the roots of trees,

roots of hair, our roots, our invisible lives, what we do when we go underground, profound

sense of how a secret is not something a human mind cannot, will not know

Dara Wier

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