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ALL RIGHT, YOU ASTRONOMERS, you sweepers of the heavens, you searchers for star-dust with the powerful eye . . . .
COME WITH ME INTO THE CORE OF YESTERDAY ; follow me into the heavens of a forgotten world ; study these fragments of lost jupiters splattered on a mine roof in mute constellations.
I AM AN ASTRONOMER, i have counted stars ; i know what stars are made of, i have picked stars ; picked stars with my fingers, held stars in my hands, black stars . . . .
A MILLION YEARS from neptune,
A MILLION YEARS from the moon,
A MILLION dirt-years from daylight!
COME ON, YOU STAR-GAZERS, you combers of the heavens, you searchers for star-dust, with the powerful eyes,
COUNT THESE BOULDER STARS, BLACK STARS OF THE MINER.
