Opportunity & Spirit on mars in a planet wide dust storm six months in duration
Again and a half as far from the sun as we yet, hope persists in the face of disaster
Ours is a minor planet orbiting an insignificant star on an unremarkable galactic arm
There isn’t a thing that we can not do as a species, except not kill each other
Linguistic considerations aside Deus Ex Machina, is for poets, No god from the machine
Brazil’s giant sloth’s almost made it. Hope persists in the face of disaster
Was it climatic changes or, an unfortunate intro to humankind’s appetite for flesh?
Australopithecus! Southern Ape indeed, you were curious, but I wonder about what?
Hope and your species three million years extinct what persists in the face of disaster
Seven thousand light years away in a star nursery, hope persists directly from disaster
This nurturing nursery quietly nestled in the corpse of the magellanic star that preceded it
Euripides could not have known the scale of our vision yet, as a tragedian such texture
Julius in sooth cried “Caveat Emptor” He also said there is nothing new under the sun
What would he say of riding the blast wave upon cosmic debris being hurled starward?
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