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      June 15, 2021Lost in SpaceLeah Mueller

      for Jeff

      In space, no one
      can hear you ask,
       
      “Do you have
      a Prime account?”
      at Whole Foods.
       
      Nor can they offer
      free shipping with
      a thirty-day trial membership.
       
      The Washington Post,
      with its endless chatter
      of neoliberal propaganda,
      fades into distant memory.
       
      Just you, with your
      fishbowl helmet, framing
      your baldness
      like a translucent crown.
       
      Fly into the outer reaches
      of the galaxy, colonize Mars
      into an enormous warehouse.
       
      No one will clock in
      late for their graveyard shift.
       
      You won’t need
      to count the days
      before your dividends
       
      arrive: that final billion
      dollar deposit, until
      you explode into
       
      a magnificent supernova,
      molecules scattering
      their alms to a plundered
      and impoverished cosmos.
       
      Somewhere, a woman
      orders underwear
      from a small online company.
       
      Somewhere, a programmer
      finds discount software
      at the last Radio Shack.
       
      You are oblivious space dust,
      particles floating like
      dollar bills through the galaxies,
      one for each remaining star.

      from Poets Respond

      Leah Mueller

      “I was amused by the news that Jeff Bezos intends to fly a rocket into space. Despite my disregard for oligarchs, I can’t help but be impressed by the sheer hubris of his plan. The richest man in the world seems to be bored with his affairs on earth, so he seeks the ultimate thrill. I tried to imagine what it might be like for him go into the cosmos and never return. Would it be a relief? What would happen to his empire? Would anyone really miss him?”