Non-Erotic PoetryUnder an Alien MoonBeneath the dead ice of Europa,
below the howling methane winds
of Titan,
they stir,
feeling the distant heat
of a bloated red sun getting
ready to burp up:
the Eiffel Tower,
all the long-buried cities,
followed by a chaser of the fire whales
who replaced their builders, and,
saddest of all, a sea of
immortal cockroaches, who
once bumped elbows with stegosaurs.
Birth
Sealed away from the universe
by dark cloaks of solid ice,
beneath skies dominated
by breathtaking rings
that they cannot yet see,
floating in oceans that
know no light,
alien tubeworms and bacteria
bask in the growing heat,
unperturbed by the silence
of their extremophile cousins.
Their day is coming.
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