I am orbiting this planet
at my own speed.  It is very pleasant. 
Soon, though, I will have to beam down.

    I will put on my suit,
    puffy like a diver’s,
    only lighter than air.

It will have the necessary tubes and tanks
a window, weights to hold me down,
whatever I need to survive.

    But I don’t really want to come down
    and it isn’t the suit.
    It’s something they’ve done

to my brain up here, strange thoughts
they’ve put in my head.  Now I can’t remember
why I used to live there anymore

    or why they said those awful things
    about me when I left
    but I don’t think I want to go back.

 

Hear it:

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