Apollo One-Six by Alexander Poster
The stain of beetroot on my hands As I hammered the patrolman Into Negative space Remains unsanitized. All astronauts have blue eyes. The spaceman with the round moon face Proclaimed, demanded One small step for a man A proud man, A gilded man, An armored man, A man in stack formation, A man, rabid, foaming bullets inside the atrium, He brought loaves and fishes and an amplifier And promised us dreams in still images only Of an unchanging Topography like Mars. A shining city on Olympus Mons. We prayed and tore our raiment At the moonlight of His visage. He will rise! He will launch! Because I gouged the patrolman Because we died for His sins. But fruit when it sits In its own juices Tends to putrefy. Out, damned spot! These rancid, ruddy hands Now reek with iniquity. But still, they will stain any white flag that, in weakness, I may wave Into the blackness of space.
Alexander Poster is a poet and fan of Nick Cave from Washington D.C. this song from the album “Carnage” strikes a chord with them due the Capital Insurrection even though the song pre-dates the event but feels in a way it predicted in a way.
Fevers of the Mind 