Chicano Poet

Wednesday, November 30, 2011

The Mayan Comet

She landed on a comet once before,
she’s done her job upon the stars.

The rock and metal remain,
the ice is turning into gas.

Her rocket has veins showing,
and sweaty muscles for life support.

The sun is dangling
from its string.

She’s climbing back into her rocket
which trembles like a doe.

The earth is not just a planet
but a way of life you know.

Light speed slows down to a crawl
around her.

The landing is quite dusty,
the desert thighs so hot.

The nerdy scientists wear cotton glasses,
they’ve run out of soda bottles.

“You’ve made amazing discoveries
which as a rule we must deny.”

said the frumpy, gay generalissimo
to her gorgeous, naked eyes.


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