We landed within a vacuum  

of electromagnetic radiation,

 

lasting one solar orbit  

on a rock-ice body  

 

christened to honor  

the long-dead deity  

of home and hearth.  

 

The mine, the saloon,  

the one-story schoolhouse:

 

all front-porch visible

as we breathed chunks of atmosphere.  

 

Over a Vestan year,

Jacob rose with the droves  

 

before descending

into the black soup of pursuit,

 

into a mob of mineworkers  

schlepped down an elevator shaft.  

 

At dusk, the screen door  

swung wide upon his return,  

 

that frostbite breeze

cooling my Irish stew.  

 

When the iron-rich clay

blackened his face, he wiped  

the soot from his eyelids  

 

and doled out a passing kiss,  

sliding our supermarket survival

into my breast pocket. Just as fast,

 

he threw his mask of love

and rust-stained jeans  

onto the bedroom floor.

Keith Mark Gaboury earned a M.F.A. in creative writing from Emerson College. His poems have appeared or are forthcoming in such publications as Eclectica Magazine, Poetry Quarterly, and New Millennium Writings. Keith is a poet and preschool teacher in San Francisco, California.

 

JACOB AS AN ASTEROID MINER

Keith Mark Gaboury

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Poetry

        April 2018

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