A green fly zooms in sonic
Booms the way superman
Wears an S on his chest,
For identification, or to
Impress his cosmic friends
Scoring free drinks
At the Galaxy Inn,
Which is located
Somewhere in the West
District of Solar Valley,
According to Mapquest
A chaperone that sucks,
Because I’m lost
Like Neon Flux, in a haze
Of violet fog and lights—no
Matter... just have a good time
With your kinetic ESP, brave
Hero pals and battles of
Victory: Princess Sister Hazel,
Then, when you arrive home
If you’re not drunk on Pina
Coladas and Silver Surfer’s
Cologne, can you teach me
How to make potato pancakes
In space without messing up
The kitchen, pretty please
With a Mustang and
Rocher on top,
Thanks a bunch: this is
Why I believe you’re amazing,
Because you care about the
Simple things in life— forget
The details, which reminds me
I have to find a book
On capitalism, and write
A 20 page essay about OPEC
Explaining how it ties into
The US economy, unless I drop
Business 101 like a cute
Zhu Zhu Pet, or bad Buffalo
Bills bet, but I’ve heard
Lectures about love, and its
Regrets: if you want to be
Smart, sweet, and caring
Like a teacher’s pet,
“There’s an app for that”
Quote your uncle
Dr. Royce, the Harvard
Business Professor,
Who spitballs cold calls
The way Fonzi jumped
Over a tiger shark to kill
The ratings on Happy Days,
Which brings cool kids
To question the concept
Of TV if not dismal
Reruns, where one might
Catch chickenpox, or the
Jackrabbit jinx, by sitting
Too close to the screen,
Becoming struck with insanity,
Which by definition
Is doing things
Different every day and
Expecting the same result,
As Puff the Magic Dragon
Would vouch, chilaxing at
An IMAX theater engrossed
In coming attractions
The way moths dive Kamikaze
Into light bulbs for divine
Inspiration, or pardoned intuition,
Like x-ray blips... and whether
Or not you pay attention, let’s
Tend to them, (the mice
In our Converse shoebox) for some
Honorable mention on Earth Day,
By caring for animals, nature
Goo goo ga ga
Even if some illustrations
Aren’t true: a slice of wind on
A paperback Tuesday, a grand piano
Sweet as a Kit Kat, cell phones
Fragile as glass tears to drop—
In short, life is petty
Go ask the wisest fool,
Or deep and electrifying
Like an online kiss,
Just as truth could be
A holy brown dwarf sun
Bouncing between the radar
Of our telescopes for fun,
Who’s praying to the mother
Universe, our God
To fuse helium in exchange
For hit songs not yet recorded,
As if existence was a firecracker
Flame, and the owner of Sun records:
Which makes me believe
Elvis is alive, and doing well
As somebody’s great-grandfather
In Memphis Tennessee.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem