Man in Space

I have encountered a few new readers recently who have wondered about my blog title. It is the title one of my favorite poems. Since I haven't posted it in a while I thought I would share it again for those of you who were wondering.





All you have to do is listen to the way a man
sometimes talks to his wife at a table of people
and notice how intent he is on making his point
even though her lower lip is begining to quiver,

and you know why the women in science fiction movies
who inhabit a planet of their own
are not pictured making a salad or reading a magazine
when the men from earth arrive in their rocket,

why they are always standing in a semi-circle
with their arms folded, their bare legs set apart,
their breasts protected by hard metal disks.




Billy Collins "The Art of Drowning"