LYFE

You found life on Mars
By one Roman X–
The dark numen
Which might signify
A snail crawling
On straight razor’s edge

That such would magnify
If not zero in for the O-
edipal wreck of Super
Mario’s Moon Bug
Or, better yet–launching
Back to the ice-laden bones
Of myth, the cratered crashsite
Of Jupiter’s trampled space kart

II

Beneath the rapture
Of Alice’s Looking Glass
Inside a basement booked
For (yeah) the snail-like advance
Of the geologist’s geologist’s
geologist

My one rabid popeye
Would not so much plunge
But more accreditely spelunk
Into the Copernican zip drive
Nested in the silicon cache
Of one thin section of rock

III

The general’s dog drools
As it stares at the doorknob
The librarian’s cat sharpens
Her claws, picking at the lock
For the backdoor she’s proven
Already to turn by unlikely force
Of some Jedi–killing two early
Birds with one slingshot

IV

If not for the worms
We might never have
Learned to crawl
Let alone squawk
Off the game’s
Very own board
As the Cherokee
Were known not
Just to breach & gut
But further clean
The red-coated flanks
Of some certifiable burden
Hungry for British scalps