We are sinking. Deliberately plummeting down the pressure
gradient, Jules Verne eat your heart out because in this planet’s atmosphere
twenty thousand leagues is nothing.
There are bands upon bands, and curdled curling stripes of
ochres, creams and bitter reds. The vast
red spot that has stormed on for aeons is thousands of miles away now, we have
a safe descent window.
We leave the inky coolness of space and drop in our bubbles,
leaving our stomachs behind in search of Jupiter pearls.
(word prompts from 19/07/2015 - HoW6)
This is just as beautiful to read as it was to hear. I wish I could write like this without it appearing forced. There were two extraordinary poets at HoW, and you were one of them.
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