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I am from “the Red Planet,” Mars,
millions of miles from a place called Earth,
which, at night, became a bright, shining star,
holding hands with the two enormous moons.

I am from the capital, Crater Thunder,
where we played tennis on the red, red dirt,
except the game didn’t go past the five-minute warmup,
as wasting oxygen tanks was a crime.

I am from the neighborhood right next to the launch site—
we wore enhanced earplugs every night to sleep,
and woke up to the rumbling of engine fire,
signaling the end of a journey for tourists.

But I liked Mars, my true home.
Earth is too green, too blue, too brown;
too overpopulated, too loud, too free;
too clean, too oxygenated, too peaceful . . .
. . . and too beautiful.