The Space Sailor
Words by Jason Roemer Illustration by Aaron Scamihorn
In two and a half hours
Charles Keller will be crushed
between the driver’s seat and dashboard
of a Monte Carlo he was planning on trading in
for an electric Leaf.
He’ll burst open in the pleasant night air
and spread over the engine block like hot apple pie.
How will he be remembered?
By the retired geologist who bought the last round
and poured him into his jacket
he’ll be toasted as the one who never quite returned to earth
from his final mission to the stars.
For the unlucky lady who twisted him around the bar
he’ll be one of the good ones who got away.
To the daughter who turned a cold shoulder
he’ll skip silently into a low orbit.
And for the family of the boy who borrowed his dad’s big Buick
and promised to be home by nine
he’ll be forever cursed as the Astronaut Junkie
who drilled a hole in the universe
the night he broke their baby in two.
Poor Charles Keller.
Poor poor Charles Keller.
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Illustration by Aaron Scamihorn
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poor charles keller! apple pie never seemed so sinister.
Thanks Sara. I’d read somewhere that astronauts often struggle as they readjust to life on earth after space exploration. Maybe it’s a sort of God complex. Maybe it has something to do with accomplishing something very few have. Or maybe you see something on the other side of the moon that shivers your timbers. I don’t know. But it got me thinking.