Cosmic Debris

Enter—the transitive nightfall of diamonds. There are crop circles dancing in a wave on Neptune, with corn rows gleaming from the man on Mars. Tail feathers toss toward a flute near Venus. Fly me like a rainbow to the nearest star. Sirius B has nothing for me. Anunnaki women want to dig my scene. Don’t take me seriously; I’m bluffing like a rookie with a pair of queens. Moon Unit lands with a Zappa on Pluto. Yoda on Saturn plays steel guitar. Moses rides in on a doggone quasar. Captain Trips sleeps by a medicine jar. Sirius B has something for me. Hot Nibiru babes try to make my dream. Don’t greet me furiously. I’ll drop you like a comet heading to the east. Exit—the transitive nightfall of diamonds.

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