coming soon...to a theatre near you...Here Dolittle spurns the isolation;
Alone he hunts the space moth,
The moth that flirts with a
Voracious lust for the burn.
Its painted wings thrust
And dip in to the currents/orbits
Weaving amid the galaxies,
Battering the glowing sun-orbs into
A submission that kills/dulls the flush,
The warmth to feed its planets,
Instead plunging verve
In to a fog and frigid demise.
Here Dolittle secures a gravitational pivot
And drives his vessel to scuttle the moth,
The moth that had
Beautifully swept through his universe
Into view of an applauding race
Only to exhaust their sun
Making of it a dark empty hole.
Here Dolittle primes the
Unfortunate Course of Action;
He targets the fluttering planet-wrecker
And thumbs a toggle,
Away with it, UCA,
The odious missile to puncture the
Intergalactic carapace of the
Space moth.
The moth that knows; it senses the
Conspicuous craft that hunts and circles--
has for parsecs and all the while
The moth's kept its painted wings--
The eyes and swirls--
Leeward to the shadows of the stars,
But now
Space moth bares all
Unfolding an arsenal
An eyeful of distraction.
Here Dolittle wonders and with a courage
Gained only by awe and love
He shifts to hyper drive
Efforts to retake the bomb
To save the spectacle
The glory, behold the
Space moth…
Deliver us to our doom.
