I have no name unless I make
it back alive in which case
my name will be Kavoshgar.
My replacement, whom I met today,
will be held up in glory’s light
in the likely event of my death.
The resemblance is striking,
as he is my third cousin once
removed on my mother’s side.
I suppose he already has my name,
though he will live out
his caged life in the woodchips
and be thrown in
the biohazard waste bag
after a few photos, while I,
after prying open the teeth of the sky,
will die as a fiery angel.
With my burning thumbs
I will guide this ship.
Listen, cousin, I will
steer this ship right onto the bastard
heads of those who project me
into the black jaws of space.
I will contract myself for vengeance.