Edwin backs into the void He's not in training now And the pilot standing 19 feet From Edwin on the surface Bleached bone white Was once a pilot who flew Sorties in a war But that don't matter any more Edwin's three feet from the floor As the pilot without warning Takes a piss inside his pants Hoping his pressure suit don't boil And Edwin does the same Charles Darwin's royals The Eagle too, man's greatest feat Miraculously intact All acute angles, knees and elbows Squats in golden underpants Much later in the day Edwin locks the cargo bay And turns to see the cyclops Neil Armstrong through the hatch He's drifting further out of wednesday Eye clamped between the ice caps Then Edwin does the same They're like two orphans at the window of an aeroplane It's 200 below zero The sun's shrieking like an owl Their footprints crush the bones of fairies As their grasps are disemboweled