Perhaps our stuff levitates into starlit skies, what we
write off on insurance forms as a crime of thievery.
Couldn’t our goods fly from down here to up there,
a parade of selected manmade detritus disappearing
at lightspeed through asteroids, meteors, and moons?
A civilization on the other end covets what gives us
joy, convenience, or even wonder. In the beginning
they sample, beta test, and dabble in what we offer.
In their sphere what if a plumber’s helper, an electric
toothbrush, or a squeegee rates higher than any Hope
Diamond? An Aborigine’s boomerang is prized over
a cruise missile. An African tribal mask is cherished?
A Lamborghini is slighted? Texts on Dyson’s sphere
are read over tracts on profit motive or bombmaking.
Possible future trade and commerce with us is debated.
What if they vote thumbs down? Our SETI ears turned
to deep space will pick up only static left in their wake.