From Outer Space
By Ruth Stone
Your gray glasses are for playing the piano
Your brown glasses are for strong reading
Brids scratch in the snow for seeds
Your oldest cat sleeps on your best papers
It is overcast, Tuesday and the coffee too dark
Nothing but sugar in the cupboard
That's when the voice from the galaxy comes back
saying - Praise Be.
It had a good sleep. It is ready to translate
And the disc that someone planted in your skull picks up a little static, and you hear
Come in minus 103
The Japanese report remnant, debris, gas
large chunks of matter.
Listen, listen I kid you not - This is real.
Now get this down
This morning snow fell.
Thirty Six bluejays, fifteen assorted sparrows
and five surviving chickadees
fought through the weather
Get this A poem about a new subject
Now listen - write this down.......