And so man's phallus was
projected up, up into
the stars: Apollo, the
chief of the Pantheon,
the void filled up with
the cold, hard penetration
of machinery.
The moon, Diana, hung
up there, waiting. Waiting
for her man.
And so he stepped out
from the Lunar Module,
surveying his prize.
'This is one small step
for a man, one
giant leap
for mankind.'
But down below, Gaia
gawked up in confusion.
'But what about me?
Did I play no part?'
Man's illusion turns.
The Earth turns.
Man turns
against his mother.
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