Posted by: iansales | January 19, 2010

l.r.v. (driving on the moon)

On the lip of a crater, he
pushes the T-bar to the right;
dust sprays up and out, the rover
skids and slews, and then wire-wheels bite…

Bounces back down the slope – no sound
but the whirr of PLSS fans, his breath
loud in his ears; chews up the ground,
writes history in the regolith:

these tyre-tracks, they will never fade.
His visit – it’s as much a fact
as a crater; one day his name
will be found on some future map.

He knows he won the prize, he’s one
of a dozen men to stand in
magnificent desolation –
the launch, TLI, the landing…

This is too much fun, this silent
rally through gunpowder-grey dust;
he should be doing some science
to have come so far, at such cost.

This LRV, it cost NASA
ten million – a few mill too,
the suit – but it doesn’t matter
because he’s driving on the Moon.


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