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.