HISTORY
Draft III
(Entry for the “SHORT SHORTS” writing contest.)
8.31.20
Sustainability Blues
We couldn’t possibly exclude Earth from this conversation–not now, not while she does her best to keep her rotund axis-chin raised through the universal runway.
Can you imagine?
Attempting to maintain your planetary dignity while doing the cosmic walk of shame, still flaunting your moon while the Milky Way cringes at your burns.
“I tried to warn her,” the sun will say.
“Those bastards did her dirty and now she’s really let herself go,” whispers Mars to Jupiter.
Scorpio is visiting the house of Venus right now, so it’s understandable that her emotional orbit for sympathy is a bit distracted. Any other day, she’d gravitate over to bring Earth about the house of Pie.
Pluto thinks everyone should fuck right off, but that’s Pluto for you. Always making something out of nothing, solids out of gas. He’s still holding on to grudges that died in the 90s.
Zooming into a more…human experience–I know, I know, you are all dying to know what Mercury is thinking. Patience, dear reader! We will circle back around. For now, please turn the page to chapter Colorado, paragraph Telluride, line Rocky Mountains.
These are the ridges of Earth that haven’t surrendered their grace. Nor would they ever, not to us. The Mountain Goats made a compelling enough argument, and have settled for part time equilibrium, but that’s a different story.
Mountains are nothing if not direct, flaunting their geological puckishness to anyone with sense, and sense you will! Those buttes? Yes you may touch, but don’t you dare ask them to bend over. You can’t sweet talk a mountain the way you can sweet talk strong people who fall victim to the kind. No, while Earth is essentially playful, she plays a bit rough at times. That much is inherently obvious when your hands are grasping for mortality at the cellulite of Earth’s great bluffs. She’s a great poker player, that one.
Earth is the touch of our senses. Air can pride itself on olfactory supremacy; the prejudices of water and fire can steam out the rest. Earth takes the cake of sense and sensibility. Right now, however, Earth takes the cake, eats it, and washes it down with a pint of ice cream (originally procured to soothe the fire blisters). Earth, Majestic, Feminine, Baubo Earth has got a bad case of the broken-heart blues.
You may be tempted to dismiss her insistence on poise as melodramatic, at which point I’d like to remind you of Earth’s precarious position; there are only half as many opportunities for planetary purpose as there are fish in the sea (what’s left of the scaly beasts anyway). Just ask Saturn, whose monotonous romance with his rings has left him envious of the third planets’ most recent affair. He too fancies the capriciousness of carbon creatures and their wild-card indiscretions.
Ah! Of course, we wouldn’t dare exclude Saturn from this conversation–not now, not while he mourns make-believe altruism….