Faint Gossip

It’s a strange disability
Earthlings have attained, prosthetic
Ability to study stars

In great detail while to bound to Earth—
Nearly immobile existence
But with a deep field of vision.

We lie in bed with our lenses,
Knowing we’ll never leave this room,
Despite some lurid fantasies,

Much less get far away from town,
But can eavesdrop on faint gossip
Whispered from the far horizon.