When I was young
I wanted to visit all the stars
Every last brown dwarf
Lazy corners of galaxy beckoned and
I followed though not always on time
Till I began to cast off illusions
These ghosts soon became great friends
I came to Earth
Not believing how smelly
Enraged, polluted, stupid
Unlettered and unlovable
Short-lived species could be
I stayed for the stories
Humans tales taller than nebulae
Yet they adore them;
People live faster in shorter works
I like fake tales too
Especially the ones I tell
My expertise: the post-future
Describing precisely
What should not happen but will
It’s the least expensive way to explore the stars
Particularly all those new ones