A Solarite's Lament

(from a manuscript found by Jonzid in unusual circumstances)

Oh Mars, what has it made of you?
What peoples and lands could have more need of you?

I wanna Mars where spaceships gaily painted, dart and sputter harmlessly; of air traffic control: no such banality!
I wanna Mars where electricity is cleanly made: place two rocks in proximity; and both are found in quantity!
I wanna Mars where everyone speaks language singingly, and in learning, it's but a span of hours to be conversant with thee!
I wanna Mars where waters hide and even more, canals reside in mystery!
I wanna Mars where in forests primeval, terrestrial Pleistocene beasts are refugee!
I wanna Mars where cities shine, avenues all made before history!
I wanna Mars where John Carter and Dejah Thoris can be!

Oh when will our mere top drift once again,
nearer to that PROPER Mars beyond the portal?
What cruel dimension is this that makes our wishes merely that and not immortal?

A universe line through space and time; why dirigibles will never rise again!
It goes swallowing heavens, to spit inferior visions of reasoned prayer,
prior entries no avail. A jaundiced plan as ever made, it took away Callisto first.
Farewell Jandar, I think of you on seeing jade, as then, Mars and Venus fade.

Oh what more could satisfy its appetite for signs of soulful dreams?
What fibers of our being could withstand this venturing esteem?

Finally crossing the sphere of Earth to sweep away all physics of Pelucidar!
Emerging upon the other side and scraping off, unbarred, a hitherto too far plateau.
And setting Darwinia down, upon some scarred lackluster globe,
where they wouldn't, living for machine from machine for living, know.

Oh now what's happened to Luna's seas and the sweet little faeries who buzzed their shores? The chesty winged redheads who winked like whores?

Copywrite 2004 Jonathan Stevens

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