Edwin backs into the void
He's not in training now
And the pilot standing 19 feet
From Edwin on the surface
Bleached bone white
Was once a pilot who flew
Sorties in a war

But that don't matter any more
Edwin's three feet from the floor
As the pilot without warning
Takes a piss inside his pants
Hoping his pressure suit don't boil
And Edwin does the same
Charles Darwin's royals
The Eagle too, man's greatest feat
Miraculously intact
All acute angles, knees and elbows
Squats in golden underpants

Much later in the day
Edwin locks the cargo bay
And turns to see the cyclops
Neil Armstrong through the hatch
He's drifting further out of wednesday
Eye clamped between the ice caps
Then Edwin does the same
They're like two orphans at the window of an aeroplane
It's 200 below zero
The sun's shrieking like an owl
Their footprints crush the bones of fairies
As their grasps are disemboweled