(About a 2 minute read)
Her parents had cruelly raised her to believe
She was the adopted child of wandering space aliens,
And not their own flesh and blood, which led her
From an early age to spend nights at her window
With a flashlight signaling Jupiter. Years later
I found her, still not disillusioned by then, working
The streets as a freelance jumper-cable consultant
Who for a fee would tell you which cable went where.
By then I couldn’t save her from her entrenched insanity,
But I brought her home anyway under the pretense
Of needing a house maid when in truth I was looking
For cheap labor to help me genetically engineer the cats
That I planned to sell as designer pets — once I had
Gotten them to glow in the dark like jellyfish.
Yet, it was not until the months had leaped past nearly a year
Before we became friends, for one night she came to me
Dressed in her tragic aluminum foil hat and pajamas to ask
If I wanted to stay up and signal Jupiter with her. Better yet,
I said, let’s coax the moon to look in through your window
And upon your white sheets where we’re making love.
The happy years rolled by then
Like plump sausages off an assembly line
Until the day I lost her when
Her aged parents returned to claim her as their own.
And the last I ever saw of my love was her wave to me
From the ramp of her family’s saucer.