Hanuman, shapeshiftgod of mermaid seduction
billowed in a black-ink pin-poke constellation,
across your rib canvas. Demon-demolisher
Hanuman side-eyed as you called me Pleiadian:
a Nordic space queen, blue-blonde benevolent
galactic Aryans – nah. True sky-wanderers
don’t manifest your dusty earthling hang-ups.

Althusser reads like dreams after blowing trees
on a nightshift solo subway ride out to Neptune.
Ask me does ontogeny recapitulate phylogeny.
Nah. But: subscript, your neurons are galactic,
so twin webs named Unconscious and Ideology
are two ghost rockets who fill their tanks up
only on their own unleaded un-visible-ness.

Find links:
Spuyten Duyvil Bridge, a spinet piano, my brains,
smogged at sundown, jumped tongue and swung
sleeping shark-like, sharp, thimble thumb meat
falling bones out apart plop clunk-clinkety sink.
Full struck spoon men, moon men, cat-and-fiddling,
some wild wandering, clatter-plinketing, cosmic ink.