Customs

Love Is a Quiet Moose on the Moon

The lights going off, you and I
and foreigners climb into our beds
like exhausted warriors. Succulents of night
take over control of the yard, the bright snow
swaying like jellyfish tentacles.
Love is a quiet moose on the moon.
Fear, your pet mastiff, barks in a lower and
lower voice from across the demure lake whose water
is the color of your toenails.
Step into the seamless abyss and forget
the brisk sound of today’s sunset. Accept
this blindness, which is no longer
a crime. Oh, drift out to your dream
resembling a piece of dead wood.

While Taking a Shower, I

wondered why I’m so lonely.
worried slightly why I wasn’t hungry.
counted my birthmarks: 2 on the front side of my body, unknown on the back.
compared hair from different parts.
deplored a phantasm’s mortality
sang aloud.
imagined driving up a hill, though I never learned to drive.
closed my eyes and felt the water.
recalled the black cat my ex-roommate used to keep. Is he hungry?
recalled the bitemarks he had left on my playing cards.
realized the futility of deploring.
squeezed out some shampoo (with my eyes closed).
envisioned myself spending years on an isle with a sad robot equipped with sad batteries.
came up with a piece of excellent advice for Xi Jinping, but I daren’t tell you what it is.

Customs

Where do you come from?
-Nebulae, green or claret. And before that, the Big Bang, just like you.

Can I see your passport, please?
-Sure, here it is.

Do you have any family members in this galaxy?
-Yes, my uncle works as a red dwarf near the central bulge.

Are you carrying currency or monetary instruments over $10,000?
-No Sir. Just me and my 1,300 yottatonne baggage.

Anything to declare? Alcohol, seashells, or insects?
-Not at all. Actually, no organic can be found on me.

How long do you plan to stay here?
-Ten billion years or so.

And may I ask what you are gonna do during this period?
-Shine.

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