You’re a NASA intern and you steal 17 pounds
of moon rocks so we can fuck on the moon.
Space sex is difficult because of Newton’s Laws,
hard because gravity messes with blood, sweat and cum.
If you’re floating in space the slightest thrust
sends you hurtling away.
When a body in motion
fucks another body in motion
the other body fucks back just as much
in the opposite direction.
Space rocks poke into your hands.
You can change positions, but on your back
it’s so much easier to see all the empty
above you. Little apollos all up in the sky
making new constellations, throwing out
You leave deep marks on the surface
of newly discovered planets.
One small step for man, you know?
Space sex is hard so astronauts
sext each other
You are so brave,
You are the biggest astronaut
I’ve ever met.
It makes space seem not so empty.
If Apollo 11 had been unable to lift
off the surface of the moon
Neil and Buzz would have been stuck
there waiting to die, a cheap porn plot,
but President Nixon had a speech planned
out mourning the two astronauts just in case.
After fucking on our moon rock-stuffed mattress
What would you be doing if I was Neil and you were Buzz
I know yr in the shower but what would you be doing
if these moon rocks were there
what would you be doing if I were wearing a spacesuit.
From the International Space Station you can watch
a lonely stream of god views of Earth
People aren’t there but deserts and seas
and cities curve under the scope lens
ISS shows a stream of light with the caption
London eyes Paris across the channel,
with Brussels peering in
I share a photo of light with the caption
I love your window
My light bends differently than yours
You don’t feel small until you see
LA from above at night.
I am finding the best way to say I am scared
of New York, of vastness, the space, the people,
So many places for us to put our hands
I want to like the distance infinitely
Instead of good morning I say
Thank you for putting up with my neuroses,
but really you should have left for work by now
This morning NASA found a new way
to measure black holes using affectionate objects
and hyper-violet light
The black hole says
I am lonely, please shake me
We are too busy looking at our phones in bed.
Inside his Apollo Neil Armstrong brews his coffee
and watches the sun crescent over the Earth.
He hums The Way You Look Tonight to himself
because there’s no sound in space.
Back home it’s almost summer but up here it’s cold.
He jacks off to wrinkled Playboys to warm himself up
underneath his American flag blanket.
The wet centerfold face smiles up at him.
Inside his shuttle he becomes more spacesuit than man.
It’s hard to be a person without a body.
Inside her house Mrs. Armstrong clears the table
and throws away the coffee grounds.
The sun arches outside the window.
Around her the house is drenched in roses sent from admirers,
each card reading Congratulations!
First lady to the first man in space!
She pulls her robe tighter.
The milkman knocks on the front door.
She lets him in and leads him to the bedroom.
There’s a crater in the center of the town
I grew up in. From above you can see post office
and salons and then the hole and then dark
with no end. It goes on and on and on.
Boys dare each other to see how deep they can go
into the hole before getting scared and coming back up
for air. Sometimes they don’t come back and the town
holds vigils and everyone gets really sad.
When I’m finally old enough to go in by myself
I kiss my mom goodbye and hug my dad.
As I descend I prick my finger and bleed an escape
route in case I get too scared.
Inside it’s dark and quiet. I keep going until the green
earth above me disappears. Every so often I trip
over boy bones. I take a tooth from each skull
and put them in my pocket.
The journey to the center is quiet and lonely.
When I reach the end, there is a small envelope
with my name written in cursive. I open it and read
the letter inside. It says congratulations, the moon
is as empty as you. I put the letter in my teeth pocket
and follow the blood back to the surface.
Emily Lakehomer lives in Portland, OR and @emilylakehomer. She is at work on a
manuscript-type-thing as well as some kind of masters thesis. She’s nicer in person.