'Surface Features' by John Dorroh

We know Mars now, her ferrous cheek

blushing in magnetic wind.

She carries no meat upon her back,

no flesh to speak of --

sand dunes, rust domes, contemplative

skies like Bengal eyes.

Reliable acreage, low-rent before invaders

escape from their own

scuttled planets.

Photogenic, beauty queen for eons,

low expectations,

interplanetary health

scare.

Failure to understand emotions,

we see only epidermis.

Probes are too expensive

for those who don’t know

science.

Copyright. John Dorroh.

John Dorroh has never caught a hummingbird or fallen into an active volcano. He's never turned down cake or pie and understands the power of bread. He wrote his first poem at the age of five with his mom's red lipstick on the bathroom wall. Fortunately he's evolved. His poems have appeared in about 85-90 journals, including Tilde, Burningword, Feral, Os Pressan, and Selcouth Station.