Red eruption like a curse
on the galaxy,
I tattoo his name
on my body and laugh.
This world is pathetic.
We can do so much better
if we begin with love.
The distance between dead
planets is huge- the
distance between
living planets greater.
We are worlds
in ourselves,
in our fire.
We can explore forever,
write about it,
find new places,
name them,
leave them behind
and burn,
crash our ships,
flail about weird cities,
erect monuments in
unknown deserts to
the music of alien
hypersex subspecies
transcendent
as curtains of blue
dust peel away
silent spirals
deep as infinity
blue as bluest orchid
germinate at the center
of a hope, a wish, a dare
on a random day,
upon a random planet,
on a random spray of
connections of electric interplay-
then we finally see
what chaos means to creation.
We finally weep, let go with relief.
We are not alone.
We can travel faster than light-
beyond our tiny flesh cocoons-
become infants full of
awe and new sensations.
We can leave Earth behind
like an exhaled breath.
Goodbye mother.
Goodbye children.
Feel the rocket blast
undoing the promises of
the past- the lies,
the pollution, the rot.
I’m going to the stars,
with or without luck.