ALIENS “R” US
He slides a flame beneath a strand
of Wallendas rope that snaps above the cavern.
The web billows: children tumble, Aunts, 3rd Cousins
& Las Lloronas who prowl on Magic Moons.
An RV made of oxygen & light descends
upon a gypsy camp in Manhattan. Out bounces
aliens with rubber arms and melaleuca breath—
when one alien takes this little Roma with black moons
for eyes & brown knuckles dipped in coffee.
The hour is palpable as the alien’s rubber fingers
vine the copper wrist of Ángelita
& blow a kiss into her brain, thus,
switching on lights in the barrio,
tugging cotton string & brass chain bulbs
in kitchens known as Hell, illuminating
every museum & cathedral, every gas station,
every city hall & boardroom of the bored,
each stitch in the throat of every mockingbird
that fell out of love, every pronoun soaked
in olive oil, each filament of astral
atom dancing down 185 in Oakland,
US 1 in Miami, 42nd in NYC,
while sweeping paint across every solid surface
in the known universe.