the real subject is always you

When the aliens found me I’d been busy

hitting myself upside the head with eels.

Not electric. Not like that transport beam.

I’d been relocated to a little bushy area

just before the airport on Squirrel road.

There were mummies moaning at picnic tables.

I began to dance around them,

dishing out some freestyle I learned

from watching the Breakin movies.

I didn’t think they’d curse me, but they did.

I tried my pelvic thrust move a second time

and pulled my right buttock.

I was drunk on brains. All through the night

I enjoyed the campfire and guitar playing.

I finally began to think clearly.