The Statue Of Triste On Mars

The  night she disappeared
she was wearing Hello Kitty pajamas.

Her abductor and tormentor
had Martin skin.

The moons had gone haywire
and up into  a leaky faucet.

Police lieutenants
arrived in vicious rockets.

Her mother wept.
Her tears were smuggled gently

out of the house.
The house whose legs

filled up with lowly  rain.
The crime remaining

snagged and worn in hell.
The statue melted down into a kiss.