Paris Hilton apparently wants to be the first celebrity to go into space. The hotel heiress plans to take her reality TV show The Simple Life into orbit and have cameras filming her as she trains to be the first celebrity astronaut. The Borkowski poet in residence imagines how she might react…
You only get famous on Earth
for being bored, rich and lonely as hell,
with your face in the papers every day
and only your good looks to sell.
If you’re stuck in the celebrity rut
there are brief specks of light in the dark
but all you will find at the tunnel’s end
is your world slowly falling apart
so I’m off to space in a rocket
with only a film crew in tow.
With no competition to ruin my position
it’s the only place I could go.
I’ve always wanted to see the stars.
Now I’ll get to see them first hand
bound, in my Gucci space suit,
for an empty and glorious land
and I’ll float in the void like an angel,
sip champagne from a small plastic cup.
I’ll watch the sun band the world like a halo.
I want to blaze before I burn up.
When I got there I lost my perspective;
I could only see an ant’s nest below.
The world looks like it’s on TV
through the glass of a space shuttle window
and it’s too quiet in outer space;
my thoughts kept crowding me out.
I wasn’t myself, I need a crowd to ignore
whose clamour will cover my doubt.
The stars themselves aren’t enough –
they’re just balls of fire in the sky –
and I was orbiting life like a satellite
beaming down lie after lie.
Yes, I always wanted to see the stars.
Then I got to see them first hand.
Now nothing will ever be the same.
Whatever I do will be bland
and I floated like a void not an angel,
though I sipped champagne from a small plastic cup.
I’ve seen the sun band the world like a halo
but I didn’t blaze, I just shrivelled up.