The first of all the mornings
afterwards,
the first mate told us
how an unknown asteroid,
had crashed right through the zirkum hull
on the seventh deck of our faithful “Doris”,
He told us how just twenty seven starry
sailors had been sacrificed to space.
“We have sealed the seventh deck”, he said
“and we are lucky, we are safe”,
but I saw the way the science officer
grew moon-pale, sweat-slick,
and how he gazed towards the screen
still showing news
from riots in Metropolis.
“It’s just another year
until we reach the IO-13 colony.”
the first mate sighed,
“and we offer lunar beer and popcorn
in the cinema tonight”.
I guess we knew by then,
but we pretended to be better off,
than those whose blood was spilled
for hunger in Metropolis.
The two sailors by Fernand Leger
For open link night at dVerse
—
January 24, 2018
Björn Rudbergs writings 
How does luna beer taste like? Nice sci-fi story that hits close to home. Better safe than sorry but still danger is all around us. How about a side trip to Mars?
I had to place a bit of those unfamiliar things into the story… and lunar beer sound so much better than Budweiser
This puts me in the mind of ‘prevention is better than cure,’ love the tone and pacing of this scientific journey through earth and space! ❤️
” … moon-pale, sweat-slick …” – wonderful!
Love the sound of “luna beer”….All the textures in your poem here bring about a soothing yet science to its incredible visuals.
Bjorn, I keep on wanting more, from this poetic teaser, as there’s a bigger story, behind what you’ve share. Could this be the start of a novel, told in verse?
A novel in poetry would be like an epic poem… yes that would be cool.
Oh, part of a larger story. Fun
Wanted to show that epic poetry has nothing to do with form 🙂 it can be done in any form we feel is fitting.
You’ve gone off at a different angle, Björn. Just as I was hoping for the librarian, you give me a space ship called Doris and her crew! The sibilance in the lines:
‘He told us how just twenty seven starry
sailors had been sacrificed to space’
is very effective in creating the sounds of space, as I imagine them. I also like the description of the science officer growing ‘moon-pale’. But the riots and hunger in Metropolis seem a little close to home – a prediction of the future perhaps.
I have to admit this is a bit of homage to the epic poem Aniara… so I need to find something more unique i think…
How about a space librarian?
I think the spaceship needs a librarian… of course.
I bet there a million Venezuelans who would be looking with longing at that space ship.
We pretended to be better off than those rioting for hunger in… fill in the blank… Caracas, Syria, under the bridge down the street…
Pass the popcorn… munch, sigh. Sometimes I hate myself. Bjorn hit a nerve here.
Well, we know who won’t be on it—Venezuelans, Syrians, poor people anywhere. The New World just for those 29 super billionaires. Wonderful.
Interesting story-telling, Björn.
So creative Bjorn- love the lunar beer! Here in the states there is a beer called Blue Moon. 🙂
A born story-teller.
That final stanza is, well, stellar! 😉
There are some lovely phrases in this–” just twenty seven starry
sailors had been sacrificed to space” and “moon-pale, sweat-slick.” I also think there’s a tragic back story here.
I “like” what isn’t said. You’ve captured body language to tell the tale and the final rhetorical question: is it better to die a quick death or a slow one. Well done!
An interesting story of risk, sacrifice, and facing the end… I believe we all live in some state of denial!
We’ll all be yearning for that ship in a few decades as Metropolis boils and subsumes.
They have popcorn & beer there too! Taste must be like our own?
Have a great weekend!
I’m not sure I’d want to be a “starry sailor” but my husband would try a lunar beer! I like your storytelling poetry.
Humans cannot escape themselves. (K)
It does make one wonder who is better off.
That is our style, cannot escape our doom, so might as well eat popcorn. This haunts me, like Brendan’s “maelstrom” but all in subtext. Brilliant, terrifying.
Perhaps you were telling just how it was, when the accident happened? Up close and personal.
I love the starry sailors and then the hopelessness of their situation. Guess there is no escape, this is the only planet we can live on! Sci Fi I think, makes us think!
A wonderful narrative poem, Bjorn, with the soft ironies and hard dichotomies: 27 dead, but popcorn and cinema for the survivors,; riots in Metropolis, but a voyage of hope to IO for the passangers and crew. Wonderful write! I already want another! 🙂