My spaceship

I had a spaceship,

long ago.

Faster than all the empirial ships.

Me against them.

David and Goliath.

I held the stick and manuvered,

Just flying past those lasers.

Just past those tentacles.

Just past the emperor himself.

But not fast enough to outrun time.

I piloted, sitting on the toilet.

Dad’s national geographics,

clustered in their holder,

smell of geraniums outside.

Here it was, in shiny array

of ceramic tiles;

of sensors and weapons,

ready to seek my fortune,

catch the monster,

blow those pirates.

Then math came into my life.

Not a joy, just a chore.

Writing numbers and letters,

and somehow, I forgot.

I lost my spaceship,

not to anything

with cruel intent,

just to my rising blood.

And it is now gone,

adrift , abandoned,

In the dark vacuum.

I search for it sometimes, in the night.

Just can’t help myself.

Where is that spaceship?

But I know that all I’ll find,

If i find,

is the wreckage.

Better keep it lost, then.