I don't want to go to Mars
I wouldn't see bronze turkeys
or herds of wild deer there
Mars would be no Sunday picnic
no vast forests or deep seas
no air or water there
no birds trilling in the air
Mars ain't no beatnik spot
not a soulful poet
or musician singing
about our human cares
about this earthly lot
Mars doesn't have amphibians
it's void of plants and horny toads
no life giving plants or oceans
nor fragrant chants or flowers
no winding roads to follow
not even gleaming diamonds
or the draw and weight of placer gold
Mars is barren and very sad
far off Mars is old
nothing there will ever be glad
happenstance with all that dry rocky red
whatever atmosphere Mars once had
because of something God once said
it's simply gone forever
a story which can never be reversed
dry red Mars is ultimately marked
stark by irreversible voids
things on sad vacant Mars
must be worse than coarse
Mars is ultimately lonely
life on Mars would be oh so bad
I don't want to fly off to Mars
I'll stay here on supreme mother earth
this refined vibrant planet
a divine place of lasting life and birth
sacred earth our one and only home
the only fruitful garden we earthlings
have ever cultivated or gladly known

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