". . .unless. You know about the Martian lander and the two probes?"
"Yes. Nasa has had no word from them at all."
"Yes, tricky business. On the other hand, I don't know, it could be...and if they're that touchy about a couple of probes and a little toy car....Jeesh! remember what happend last time. They land in groups of three, one of them appears to be the anchor.The other two come down shortly afterward and form a big triangle. Then they begin to move. Once they start moving, nothing more is heard from the area. Nothing at all.
"Ahh, I see what you mean," he said. "But consider the shapes we send them. What kind of space designs are those! Penises and freeway vehicles! Bah! What if someone bored a hole through your atmosphere and stuck a big phallus in your backyard?"
"I wouldn't be too thrilled."
"Not at all. Now if it had been me, I'd have sent a couple of Ms. Expanding Universes to fly over slowly, with a little grace. The plane of space would suggest a large comforter lifting from a marvelous reflecting landscape of gentle contours and free movement. Totally calming and reassuring."
"We'd have probably been invited for lunch by now."
"Of course. Certainly the 9002 Olympics would not be a problem."
"I see."

Miss Expanding Universe, 1932.

Noguchi & the poet say goodbye. Noguchi turns and walks towards the crest of the hill where a bunch of marbled birds appear to be looking down at him. The poet turns and goes running down the hill with his arms outstretched. He seems to be imitating an airplane. Then he falls down and rolls the rest of the way. . .

. . . to find himself at the top of the hill examining things birdish