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Description
We'll meander down a street some
rainy night, skipping over puddles so we can pretend
it's picturesque and lined with
Baroque buildings.  The graffiti is covered

by decorative murals.  Then we'll sip tea,
black with lemon to cut tannins
(we're elite, remember),
and wait for the cloud cover to reveal
the sun, though it won't shine
on our pale features.  A glance

at the wall tells us all we need to know
of Asia: landmass situated on the eastern
side of the world, multi-colored and
(so we've heard) multi-lingual.
We'll sip tea and claim our rank among
philosophers, discussing Aristotle's aether
and Ptolemy's spheres.  Our world
is crystal.  For the next hour we'll

debate the merits of Galileo's
experiments while we read the telescope's
manual, then maybe we'll point it at
the floor to inspect the cracks, but only after
we've twisted the knobs and re-polished the lenses.

Perhaps we'll move on to discussions of art
the next day, reproduce Michelangelo's ceiling
paint-by-numbers style,
and our tea will be chai or

Darjeeling from distant India
(a mere tooth on the continent of Asia)
and we'll wrap our heads in scarves
to own religion.
Secretly grateful it's cloudy,

we'll lament the loss of the moon
skirting the fact that
though we like the stories it tells,
we've never had any desire
to turn to the night sky.

Description
We'll meander down a street some
rainy night, skipping over puddles so we can pretend
it's picturesque and lined with
Baroque buildings.  The graffiti is covered

by decorative murals.  Then we'll sip tea,
black with lemon to cut tannins
(we're elite, remember),
and wait for the cloud cover to reveal
the sun, though it won't shine
on our pale features.  A glance

at the wall tells us all we need to know
of Asia: landmass situated on the eastern
side of the world, multi-colored and
(so we've heard) multi-lingual.
We'll sip tea and claim our rank among
philosophers, discussing Aristotle's aether
and Ptolemy's spheres.  Our world
is crystal.  For the next hour we'll

debate the merits of Galileo's
experiments while we read the telescope's
manual, then maybe we'll point it at
the floor to inspect the cracks, but only after
we've twisted the knobs and re-polished the lenses.

Perhaps we'll move on to discussions of art
the next day, reproduce Michelangelo's ceiling
paint-by-numbers style,
and our tea will be chai or

Darjeeling from distant India
(a mere tooth on the continent of Asia)
and we'll wrap our heads in scarves
to own religion.
Secretly grateful it's cloudy,

we'll lament the loss of the moon
skirting the fact that
though we like the stories it tells,
we've never had any desire
to turn to the night sky.