Stowaway by Darius Greene published on 2011/07/27 02:24:47 +0000 from the album 'The Radio' Stowaway Touch the brightened panel and release the chutes; little cherub boys in cowboy boots, astronauts and circus tents, Captain’s peppermintsm he left on deck. Like fish in flight weightless droplets rise, and kiss her photograph. I’ll transmit this mayday, or maybe, just relax... ....I feel you eat my brains, your loving tentacles wrapped around my waist. Your sweet digestive juices, spitting up over the rest of my body. Slurp me down a tube in your throat, or whatever that thing is. Sleepy constellations. Fleeting whale of comet tail. Solar rings marry moons, station to station in route. Screams on sub-channels ones and teens; mayhem and static tragedies, haunted waves, ghostly signals strayed. That place where stars are born, light sheets of a baby’s new strong arms the grand thieves of fairy graves swallows the light, darkness made. Turn back time, spinning galaxies that drown, winding round. Planets on her gown, sequins celebrate the night.