by Jack Brummet
And the race was on —
Movie star Jack Kennedy
V. the spooky shoe pounding Nikita Kruschev.
We charged 226,000 miles
To that pale toenail,
Hell-bent for leather,
To claim title
With old glory or the hammer and sickle
And impale the moon on a dusty pole.
The paramecium of the Milky Way,
We wind in time and untick in the heavens
Under the weather and under the gun.
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