Moonwalks Poem by Mark Heathcote

My heart is a moonscape.
Cratered all over
Your love is a lunar rover.
On a geological hunt for what?
Who knows? Sure as hell I don't care.

'Or do I...? '

Your hand in mine becomes like a
Command module; you said I had
Some malfunctioning thoughts
To jettison away, that you,
You wanted us to go on moonwalks.

Saying 'I DO'S'

More fool me or you.
Seeing the triviality of the sky
Multiplied ten thousand times.
Gazing into the umpteen galaxies
In each other's eyes.

I guess my real name-
It must be Neil Armstrong.
The most challenging missions aren't to the moon.
They're just arms and legs floundering on earth, waterborne.