Stargazer

[badger11]

Her tiny hands crush the fresh orange.
A moon implodes - pips launch into space.

I sip a camomile tea and crayon
the consequences
between supernova and nebula
until gravitating to earthly things.
My list of ten. I hoover.

My little goddess wants to be a chemist
and holds up fingers daubed
with a sticky, primeval ooze.
Her mouth opens up an evolution
of mud and bellow. A salamander
swallows the sludge of fruit and nut.

I wash the breakfast dishes.
A bee

... amazed by the pink blossom
of the curtains, head butts the glass.
I empty the dregs of last night's
burgundy red, swallowing
the buzz.

An astronaut and his alien friend
come into view. They've made a racing track,
almost a figure 8. The human shouts:
second comes last and first comes top. My name's
Car-Crash, and that car's mine.

I gulp a mug of tap water. My mind
a hexagon frenzy of beehive memory.
I dry the dishes.
A spoon, a moon, a knife ....

The astronaut crashes, always,
because all aliens know the track
should be a perfect O.
The alien head nods
in a measured and dad way,
and life feels reassuringly extraterrestrial.

I offer an E.T smile
with two glasses of fizzy lemonade
and press a button on
the washing machine, cooling system, remote control -
a capsule casually spins
out of orbit from the gravity chain
that links my list of ten. It plops
into my tea. I drink. I dust.

[eclipse]

Amazing narrative..well done...

[tonyv]

Just when I finish reading one of your best works ("The Curator's Confession") I come across another to share space at the top of the list. This is fine writing. The working title definitely caught my attention, but this title is perfect.

Tony

[badger11]

Thanks again both. Yes, so much depends on a title hook!