Today there is no work to be done.
There is only rest
and the simplicity allowed
as the spaceman sleeps.

He dreams not of galaxies,
but the land and ocean
as he catches bass
down by the bay.

His peers worry
about opportunities missed
amongst the stars
as their astronaut
is calling in sick today.

He opens his eyes
and mumbles
about the plentiful
amount of fish and waves
the men down by the dock
get to catch each day.

i wrote a lot of great poetry when i was in love
i wrote even better poetry when i was in pain
i wrote the best poetry when i realized that the two emotions were actually the same.

i remember
when i was younger
i asked my mother
why the ocean was salty.
she told me
it's because
the fish in the sea
shed tears everyday
for the loss
of their fish mothers.
i always felt sorry
for those fish
who cried enough tears
to flood seventy one
percent of the earth.
now i am
a longing fish,
drowning
in my own
saltwater tears
for the loss
of my mother.
she left me
behind,
alone with the
giant school of fish.
there are so
many fish in the sea
and yet
i only need one
but she doesn't
need me.