Quick Love Note

By Natalie Shapero

There are two types of people in this world:
astronomers, and those who want to fuck
astronomers, hoping to get stars christened
in their honor. Well, bad news:
most stars are named something like x8537—
nobody’s honoring anything
except themselves and numbers. I never fell
for the romance of telescopes:
the universe’s enormity, our corresponding
infinnitessitude. When I think of discovery,
I only think of turn-offs: blue dye in the organs,
mice shot into orbit, innovations
stewing in beakers under surface-mounted
lights. The only honest thing about outer
space is the way it’s depicted
in films: planets reduced to planes of flame
and garbage, with fern-appointed ships
for the rich to escape. Promise me
no posterity, nothing extractable, no record,
nothing fixed like an eye on the stock of the sky
and maybe—I said maybe—I’ll look your way.

Natalie Shapero