His eggs are where the Moon-Goose lays
on hot days when she tans her legs
on spits of gold and sterile floors
where things are now, were not before.
He has an eye that twitches well,
the Moon-Goose has a wishing well,
and every night before he sleeps
she drops two Euros on his peeps.
And every day when she awakes
she runs from twenty thousand rakes,
politely puts her lipstick on,
and gladly flies into the sun.
So he will sit upon his eggs
until his glutes begin to sag
and stars from embryos are wrought
as diamonds are from balls of snot.
Featured art: Tied for Time by Tim Lane
Image used with permission from the artist.