happy birthday, universe.

happy birthday, universe.
by cerebella
happy birthday, universe.
the blueberry skinned sky
is poked,
and dripping into china seas.
sailors gape their mouths
wide open.
(we all need to remember
why we pick up the phone
when it rings, sometimes.)
today the galaxies
orbit the light posts
and the trees,
and i really feel like
people should pay
a little bit more attention
to those things.
i thought i saw another
firework. but you
were a lunar eclipse,
springing your carriage
down to me. like
casino arrows.
slurping me out in
a fashion similiar to
curly straws.

0 thoughts on “happy birthday, universe.

  1. Happy Birthday, Cerebella. Douglas Adam’s ‘Vogons’ would be put in their place upon hearing such a rendering in outer space at whatever hitchhiker terminal you may find yourself. The Universe as a mobile twirling for us babes in toyland gazing up from our cribs…in awe of the holistic caustic stickyness of life’s beauty slurping it up in crazy straws…i luv that feeling (omg) and pee my pants with honeydew.
    At the end of that first stanza there seems such an anachronistic observation at first reading but it just fits so well and jolts so furtively: “(we all need to remember why we pick up the phone when it rings, sometimes.)” –Sign me up for cerebella singular cellular!
    You do the same thing in the 2nd stanza towards end to create matching pair of fuzzy socks…pleasant!
    3rd stanza does a mamba and twists chubby checker like revealing true nature of inspiration…star crossed (eyes) lovers brought into the amends of existence…whoa. Highly conceived madam! I confer upon you the rank of 1st captain dragon slayer…oh wait, this is no fantasy game…my apologies… peace on earth (and Mars)!

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