Monday Poem--"Heidegger in Space"

I dreamed last night
of Heidegger in space.
I don’t mean to say
that he was hacking his way
through to the clearing of Being
but rather orbiting the earth
with the space shuttle crew:
the mission’s metaphysician
on call at all hours.
He sits by the portal
and stares outside
mouthing unintelligible truths,
thinking terrible thoughts.
“Das Nichts selbst nichtet”
—he solemnly intones—
and who could not help feeling,
staring out into the endless void,
the immensity of nothingness?
It is that same nothingness
which tightens his throat
and almost brings a tear
to his oracular eye.

Well, the rest of the crew,
as it turns out,
has no use for his
pencil-moustache,
his slinking around,
his dark sayings,
when there are gauges to check,
and tests to run,
and an interstellar lavatory
that must be cleaned.

So, without a word,
they lure him
to the escape pod.
Weary of his drivel,
they strap him in,
eject him into space
and watch in silence as,
still talking,
still taking
the measure
of the fourfold
of Earth and Sky,
Gods and Mortals,
he slowly rolls round
in earth’s diurnal course
already beginning
to forget the dearness
of rocks, and stones, and trees.