Intergalactic Sensations

I gulp the sour milk
which pours from mother moon.
Raised up to the heavens
I am adorned by stars and planets
and pampered by the Milky Way and her servants.
As I lounge on the beach of Eden,
and await silently for the ship from Apollo,
a vision, a hell raiser carried
with all his might on a package—
a package of steel with torn
garments and bulging biceps
carries me off to ecstasy.