PS Cottier

Ths poem recently won first prize in the C.J. Dennis Literary Awards (Auburn, South Australia) on the theme The Universe: Yours to Explore. Such an overwhelming topic seemed to call out for a little humour:

Dear NASA,

When we reach Mars, kicking up red dust,
walking against gusts like Marcel Marceau,
let’s not do what we did on the Moon,
forty leap and leap-less years ago.

Let us not plant any one nation’s flag,
like a toothpick through a lump of party cheese.
Might a woman set her feet first on the planet
so often connected with war? And please,

please, no one takes golf clubs, whether niblicks
putters, drivers or irons. Let Mars stay a place
untouched by sprees of futility, no heady sticks
to launch tiny white balls into circles of space.

Leave no junk; let the plains spread clearly.
Just a few thoughts from
yours, sincerely.

P.S. Cottier