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No Cares Liza
P
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Repair the divine highway to L. A.
when it hurts to stay. When it hurts to go,
do a little dance to keep from leaving.
I’ll gunfight you on the top of a train
carefully as a principal dancer.
There’s a space opera I want to stage
about a queen on her isle of men
who fuck each other, vying for her love.
Odysseus lasted for a few years
on his lonely sex island. Life happens,
and you’re always skipping to the next scene.
Spoiler alert: the play ends instantly.
They travel the universe together.
They being us, they were already there.