Interstellar Theme Park [poem by Jack Skelley]

Photo by Gary Leonard

(Ed note: Ever since we posted the conversation between poets Jerome Sala and Jack Skelley we’ve been fielding requests for their poems. Here is Jack Skelley’s Interstellar Theme Park, from his book of the same title. You can find it here.)

Interstellar Theme Park by Jack Skelley

Based on Alejandro Jodorowsky’s lost epic, Dune

I want whore-ships

And I want these whore-ships to dock in orbital flesh

I want ruby-throated ornithopters sipping the nectar of dwarf stars

I want Emperor Dali on a toilet throne of dolphins

I want drones that say Yes Daddy

I want H.R. Geiger mausoleums for the 27 Club

I want quasi-suspended animation (genital arousal optional)

I want a planet of toys

I want a jihad of joys

And a gulag of Karens

I want Rimbaudian grammar police

I want woke Stormy Daniels balloon rides

I want light-rail Stations of the Cross

I want Picasso’s pajamas 50% off in all emporia

I want Vibrators by Dre standard

I want Syd Barrett-era Pink Floyd to levitate the Tomorrowland Terrace

I want 50-foot Miley Cyrus mourning her Dead Petz on Dog Star Sirius

I want time itself to eddy and unhitch from its turntable of deception

I want Moon Juice cougars – see them jump-start adaptation, anointed with next-gen Kardashian lips and hips

I want Fruity Pebbles vaccination bars, with stalactites nippling jelly babies, but without the jingle-jangle crash

While we’re at it, I want fingers that are 17 trillion light-years long, probing asteroids & healing hemorrhoids

I want Aristophanes’ tranny-globe beings, rolling around & layered with eyes – day and night, without ceasing, they sing

Don’t forget: I want on-demand K-holes mouthing the words “now” & “wow,” drooling and dripping with ahegao

I want rings, blue rings, and rings around rings of Berlin-blue orbs

Get me Stanley Kubrick, I want him to edit all humanity to grunts and symbols

On gas-giant Neptune I want Hello Kitty to be Hell Kitty

I want fresh-baked hosts branded with the Holy Ghost

Oh, and I also want bio-feedback donuts that induce satori

I want 12 Lady Gagas to perform “Lady Madonna” – each one is pregnant and haloed with 12 stars

I want drunk-surfing on a river of anti-gravity

And into this river I want a comet called Wormwood to crash with cold fire nightly at 9

I want Kali the Destroyer decapitating Parvati from Survivor

I want to occupy octopi to learn their language of shape & texture

I want a sunken palace where the spirits of lost lovers murmur

I want thick, chewy anarchy in a candy-colored shell

I want to live-stream Apocalypse Dreams

I want universal chaos

I want the abyss

And, when the Singularity finally arrives, and dumb matter rises to gaze upon itself and remember who it always was, I want everyone to defragmentize into their star-child, co-mingle dimensions, and upload into each other’s arms