Spacers by Cindy Marvell





Five green steps

Shaped like mushrooms.

With Hunter on ground crew

Creating flares of hot momentum—

Bidding the paradox of Earth goodbye—

Astronaut Addison and I stood ready to fly.



Looked new

To galactic travel.

Hair curling in waves,

Face shining through a mask,

She reached for the second wheel,

Counting down to that pure enrapture

With a speed—like light—that’s hard to capture.



Saw myself

The vibrating strings

Uncurl beneath my wings

Until nothing relative mattered,

And no one watched or came or cared,

Because no force around us yearned or dared

To set things right or to make us come down as we

Zipped through the multiverse drinking light and sound.



May not follow

The spiraling gyration

Of anthropic teleportation.

Spectators said it would never work

But Addison and I found a scientific quirk.

Quantum-sharing spacers have super gullibility

Or I would have to change the laws of probability.



Life quickly,

Or glide if it seems slow,

Or seek your own intractable tempo.

I heard wild music in the theories formed

As the stars parted and our rocket ship soared

Back to one fine-tuned zone that allowed for life:

Where Addison sighed, and the possibilities were rife.

from (r)evolve, Naropa’s Summer Writing Program Magazine, 2009