Golden Disks and Whale Clicks

mind song riffs joining the back beat nature clicks timpani drums of black thunder percuss then the sky opens a luminous landing off gasses from the heat shield rainbow across a spectrum of light Cam’s Glieseian tongue flew over the surface of the audio generator Voyager’s golden disk long gone now transposes across a film of galactic plasma the taste of whale and bird song they tongue enthralls them—though they had no notion of whales or birds mind song cascades, scrolls, behind the visitors opaque orbs joining the back beat nature clicks woodpecker tunes tympanic membranes shiver upon retractable body hair drums of black thunder roll past helmetless crowns percussing their brain stems orgasmically then the sky opens Sol’s a black dwarf they are too late but still the songs sang Cam tongued the plasma film once more then reentered interstellar hibernation First Published by Eye to the Telescope 2015