1969 felt so fine we floated free stayed up past our bedtime high on ovaltine crowded round that black and white tv      watching cloudy images         of human men         just like me      sailing across the screen         down to the sea         of tranquillity   the old man wore black glasses and white mustache so dashingly talking thru the pictures of the moon and its topography fragile as tin foil the lunar module drifted by we said a prayer but no one dared to close their eyes       watching cloudy images . . . . the astronauts   in insect suits climbed out   of their cocoon & floated down   to the ground in slo-motion   like cartoons sleepless and weightless   we bounced with them     like balloons  shaken half-awake the moonscape filled up the room     dancing with those images          of human men          just like me       sailing across the screen          in the sea          of tranquillity