February 3, 2023

Save the Net Books

Blogazine on Books, Arts, and Music

Interstellar amusement park [poem by Jack Skelley]

Photo by Gary Leonard

(Editor’s note: Since we posted the conversation between poets Jerome Sala and Jack Skelley, we’ve been taking requests for their poems. Here’s Jack Skelley’s Interstellar Theme Park from his book of the same name. You can find it here.)

Jack Skelley’s Interstellar Amusement Park

Based on Alejandro Jodorowsky’s lost epic Dune

I want whore ships

And I want those whoreships to dock in Orbital Flesh

I want ruby-throated ornithopters sipping the nectar of dwarf stars

I want Emperor Dali on a toilet throne made of dolphins

I want drones that say Yes Daddy

I want HR Geiger Mausoleums for the 27 Club

I want quasi-suspended animation (genital arousal optional)

I want a planet full of toys

I want a jihad of joys

And a gulag by Karens

I want a Rimbaud Grammar Police

I want woke up Stormy Daniels balloon rides

I want light rail stations of the cross

I want Picasso’s pajamas to be 50% off in all stores

I want Dre Standard vibrators

I want Syd Barrett-era Pink Floyd to make Tomorrowland Terrace float

I want 50 foot Miley Cyrus on Dog Star Sirius to mourn her dead petz

I want time itself to whirl and break away from its turntable of delusion

I want Moon Juice cougars – see them as a jump starter, anointed with next-gen Kardashian lips and hips

I want Fruity Pebbles vaccine bars with stalactites that gnaw gummy bears but without the jingle jangle crash

Speaking of which, I want fingers that are 17 trillion light years long, examine asteroids and heal hemorrhoids

I want Aristophanes’ tranny globe beings rolling around and covered with eyes – day and night, without ceasing, they sing

Remember: I want on-demand k-holes spelling out the words “now” and “wow” and drooling and dripping with Ahegao

I want rings, blue rings and rings upon rings of Berlin blue balls

Get me Stanley Kubrick, I want him to turn all of humanity into grunts and symbols

On the gas giant Neptune, I want Hello Kitty to be Hell Kitty

I want freshly baked hosts branded with the Holy Spirit

Oh, and I also want bio-feedback donuts that induce satori

I want 12 Lady Gaga’s to perform “Lady Madonna” – each pregnant and adorned with 12 stars

I want to drunkenly surf an antigravity river

And in that river I want a comet named Wormwood to crash every night at 9 o’clock with cold fire

I want Kali the Destroyer to decapitate Parvati from Survivor

I want to employ octopuses to learn their language of shape and texture

I want a sunken palace where the ghosts of lost lovers murmur

I want thick, chewy anarchy in a candy-colored shell

I want to live stream Apocalypse Dreams

I want universal chaos

I want the abyss

And when the singularity finally arrives and silent matter rises to stare at itself and remember who it always was, I want each to defragment into their star child, merging dimensions and uploading themselves into the other’s arms