Blip---

This intergalactic
Space oncologist
Rounding curves
Pathways made
Of titanium spikes.
The spot on the wall
Is the spit
Of some strange
Alien.
Out of this world,
A hub of a universe
Sparkled
With bits of torn, metallic clothing
Stretchy, green skin
And huge, bright shining eyes.
Smiling from within,
Covering everything up
With far-fetched, striking lies.
Planning
With three eyes,
Crazy blue fingers
arms
Where they shouldn’t be.
Human eyes playing tricks
On telescopes, deserts, and spaceship sightings.
Hone in
All alone
Past this vast
Wasteland
Of burnt umber
Sand, stink, and land.
Small tall tell
Tales
And smoking
With some friends
Pot you stole
From an abandoned
7-11.
Hijacking, slouching, belching, farting, snoring.
A life
Worth living.
With small expectations,
And a water-filled
Oxygen mask
Induces a mirror of toxic waste.
Surprises of moons and stars
Circling the vast expansive
Night sky above,
Encasing the world with wonder.
Bending frames of reality,
As the space-world beckons
To me.
Little green men
Furry women
Snake hair
Cyclops bloodshot eyes
Smoky tails
Seven fingers
Purple skin.
Who knows what awaits me
As I bravely venture forth
On this ship of dreams.
Lights, gas, and hydrophloric fuel.
With wing-nut jars
And palidroms
Circling way past due.
Neon signs and empty, quiet roads.
Hot searing sun, and cool chill desert winds
Picking up the night
In giant proportions.
Call to the wild;
The wild in our hearts.
When will this journey unravel?
Where do we start?