#79
Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots
Remembering rapt and rigorous attention,
how we sat in silence, as the speakers hissed
wails and warbles from whereabouts unknown.
Approaching Pavonis Mons, preaching the word
of Wayne, wild-eyed warrior-poet, grey
hair and heartful, heliotropic sound
issued forth to function as finally, this:
a bridge not yet burnt by being forgotten.
