some bullshit about 'otherness': a poem

I.

why are there so many
drawings of dead astronauts
and what does this say
about our anxieties today?

tell me, in your own words,
two pages, double-spaced,
and have it on my desk
by friday.

II.

imagine, if you please,
and if i may be bold,
dolphin corpses floating
on a river of gold,
and the gold turns into honey,
and ten villages are fed,
and the universe remained
inside a single human head.