Star pupils, interstellar eyes,
gazing across the frozen nebula
at stick figures in radiation suits,
lovers intertwined with reactant valves,
planted into unearthly soil,
a distant light from over our shoulder,
the good comet returns,
there might be an escape pod
for intangibles after all,
and once inside, images of moonbase love
and alien encounters,
that neither mocks the comically misjudged
visions of yellowed science fiction,
nor longs for some utopian future,
an environment that begs escapism
without denying humanity
