As the tranquility base
Ascends into that curious blank space,
Not all can anticipate the return...

William Safire supports
His family on an assortment
Of pessimistic verbal preparations...

A speech is drafted
To ensure we're ready if that
Tranquility base is a no more than a casket.

The astronauts are unaware
Of their government's lack of care
And so they remain in their
Tranquility base front chairs...

In that bleak black blank space,
They are isolated from the human race
But they are calmly anxious of their arrival on
That illuminated moon where they won't even know it's dawn...

Back in Washington,
An old typewriter creates new widows.
And through the windows, we wait for
The astronaut's return
At least most of us do

And it sickens me that we must
Abandon all of our trust
Just so Will Safire can simply
Have an extra day to write a speech

It sickens me