"Instantaneous intergalactic
travel! to and among the far-
flung lattices
of heretofore
imaginary—liquid
diamond stars
having now—and forever,
and at long last!
become completely feasible;
all scheduled
explorations—of the little
old honeydew moon
now just sound—
more or less
a bit trivial,"
quipped every
former poet—practically
all at once; each
while hoisting up
a thumb
with a dim
but abrupt chuckle—to every
single poor
tour group
who'd patronize—
his rickety
Martian fishing vessel.
