elaborates on the nightmarish prospect of outer space being not a final frontier, but no frontier at all: "the present buckles into nowlessness//that lasts for never as a dark star draws/downward threads of light . . ." A few pages later, "A Safe Distance" notes our good luck that the moon is no closer than it is, for aesthetic reasons as much as anything else--we would soon tire of "that chiaroscuro,/the light-splashed pores and shadowy pits . . ."from The Guardian: Out There by Jamie McKendrick--review
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