What would I do then

What would I do without a micrometeoroid in my pocket,a sprinkle of lunar dust across my notebook?
Where would I ride my bike but across the campus,
notebook bobbing in my basket to discuss how molecules
find their way between metal asperities meeting in the middle
of a delicious kiss on their way to Mars,
over what else can I obsess but how to smuggle illicit
chemicals onto linear reciprocating surfaces to discover
their tribological mysteries,
what would I do without those hours of occupation with
my friend, the launch profile, Miss Delta II
who resents being replaced by the Mr. Atlas V, the gossip
I would miss, what would I do then,
what would I do then.