The other day I went to the Franklin Institute (in philadelphia) it's a hands on scientific museum. I hadn't been there in like ten years which makes it all the more fun. It was a fun time. (the title is reference to franklin flying his key kite).
and here's a new poem
Comets Are Boring
Comets are beginning to bore you.
They lack the glisten your hair streaks,
crossing through entangled streets filled
with alarming cars and concrete stars
that last a life time.
Strangers litter your name in vains,
shooting dust just to gain a different kind
of smile. Your eyes, glazen under the
moon as you stare into a cosmic
lagoon of murky clouds and mudpuppies
that shroud themselves behind shooting stars.
Comets are no longer worth wishing over.
You’d rather mesmerize on the tiny dots and pulsing spots
that induce your colder outer space highs.
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