Interstellar

Thirty-four going on Thirty-five
as Route 2 carries me towards Weirton. 

My place in the universe feeling 
like that point where Voyager 2 
left the solar system. 

It feels like this highway is carrying me into the black dunes 
of that silent opera where my poverty can get 
naked and scream without empire there to drown it out. 

Out here, maybe holiness is about getting smaller 
to be less blind to the vastness of God.

 I wonder what that probe saw as 
 it looked back at us
I wonder what it felt like
hurtling away from pretty women
and pretty men.
From one room apartments
and tonic with gin.
I want to know what it
saw out there in the wilderness
but most of all
I want to know if it thinks   
we are fools for paying rent here 
or anywhere else.