Here is the second poem.

Stars are confetti in space.

Imagine if Mars was a giant party favor.
God could hold it in between his thumb and index finger
and pull the long, red cord from the underside.
Since space is a vacuum, there’d be no sound.
Jupiter would remain large, bored and uninterested.
Venus would show no arousal of suspicion.
Pieces of paper float out past planets in other galaxies.

From Earth, we could all sit in a circle
and watch stars being made by a giant, muscular forearm.
A girl with glasses might ask, “What is he celebrating?”
Another guy wearing jeans would ask why God doesn’t have tattoos.
I will cover both of their mouths with my palms.
From Earth, we can hear stars being made
because Earth is not a vacuum.

Imagine if Mars was a giant party favor
but no one was there to celebrate.