Martian Poetry

• • honey suckle sweet the sound of my feet the 

    humming of passing cars
    the pavement heat the buzzing of flies upon these streets of Mars
    I be here the calendar boy setting dates throughout the year
    festivals and holidays to drink our Martian beer
    the sands they shift from red to gold and then a dusty bronze 
    the date is set the game well played upon Olympus Mons
    Oh the myth of Martian green and truth in Martian red
    our blood is thick after dark in our Martian beds