StarPoet Newsletter Vol. XI, No. XLIII

Shall we dance among the moonlight once more time tonight,
Waltz away the hours listening to Tchaikovsky and Chuck Berry,
Or shall we slip away to some hidden, forbidden cavern
To rock and roll until morning's clarity falls over us once again?

Outside our world, beneath the lingering sun and starlight,
A small circle of dear friends may wonder what's become of us,
Should they see our return, arm in arm, walking up the street,
They will nod to each other, prudently assessing our loose disorder.

But for now, in the moonlight, the moment is ours and ours alone,
To have and to hold until the sun distracts us from our embrace,
Two hearts captive to the lustful humanity pulsing within us
Clamoring we play our table stakes and share our winning.

It's nice to have sex with another human,
The Martian wit is dry,  the Andromedans
Are much faster than one would suspect;
As for the graduates of the academy,
God only knows where they have gone
Or what shapeshifters they have been in.
I want a species who will take the time
To get to know and stroke my reticence
Before sailing off to the next tawdry bar
In search of good whiskey and a cheaper lie.

The memory of sweet jasmine
Holds me fast as winter looms,
The promise of hyacinth and daffodil
Gives light to the growing darkness;

I would the new day crocus bring
Without a snowfall in between,
On Christmas Day I would cut red roses
To musk the stillness of the Solstice past;

Each autumn morning lingers less slowly,
Each night falls more quickly than the last,
I would embrace the coarse winter beauty
If I could feel the luminous breath of next Spring.

Stranded on the interstate,
Cars dopplering by lickety-split,
The breeze is an inconstant combination
Of automobile exhaust and early fall.
The blue skies belie our dead engine
-- Our wheels will not take us to the Faire --
We're both dressed up for the Renaissance
As the third millinnium speeds by all around.

Mars, Europa, Callisto,
Titan, Enceladus and beyond,
The closest life and the farthest,
Waiting for our science to discover.

That we may find our brothers and sisters,
Our three fingered cousins and friends,
Is now inevitable: we are not alone,
Life's family multiplies without end.

I could copy pentameter,
Makeshift my words and phrases,
Swell whole worlds upon the page
Then blot line by letter
'til the heavens shake.

But what would purpose me
To be something other than this woman
Who dances upon this stage?
If I were to flash both wit and rapier,
Gathering your attention
      with bright, shiny objects,
I would be no more than a harvest moon
Reflecting the brilliance of my betters.

Old Rock and Rollers never die,
They just give free chicken to the Gulf Coast;
Better than rusting out on the final reunion tour,
But not quite what we were aiming at
When we frequented the questionably smoked clubs
Just one toke ahead of the polizei.

I am looking forward to being home,
To having dry shoes and drier feet;
This has turned out to be a dismal Monday,
Full of cloudy obstacles and tedious rains.
I would be snugly asleep, safe in my bed,
Unbothered, unencumbered, with my toes unwet,
But I am at work, my sinuses bloody but unbowed,
While the skies downpour the heaven's torrent
And my hybrid ark is anchored back at home.

These noble breasts will not give milk
To any new born babes, I am too old for that,
Even if hormones would fill my milk glands,
What self-respecting infant would be caught nursing
From the gravity challenged boobs of her Great Grandma?

Let's do the temples of Amun-Min and Karnak
Then take in what remains of King Tut's reign;
We can dine on local food
From questionable street vendors,
Then cruise down the Nile, drinking coffee;
You can be my Antony and I'll be your Cleo
And we'll pretend that Caesar won't arrive,
I will kohl up my eyes and stain every lip
And you can fuck me 'til it's time for us to die.