ASTROCHRIST
Has No Hobbies
Moon
Scrub
Conceals the entrance to my crater-ed cave estate
Today: It's
The Migrants
I can hear them
Racing the bleak black disc
Running from
the monsters
of the sunless s(l)ide
Dissecting my rockets systems
Dissecting my wits for answers
I've got to
get out of here
This is not my home
("They're coming...")
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