I’ve been following with keen interest the developments around the fast radio bursts from a part of the universe three billion light years away (and I’ve also given myself a headache imagining three billion light years). This poem came from all that pondering. Also, I’ve wanted to use Temecula, California in a poem for some time because I love the word “Temecula.” It sounds like a king of giant spiders. I understand the Native American origin, but I can so clearly see a kick-ass spider….
The Lizard’s Wish
A self-medicating lizard basks on
a sidewalk in Temecula, California.
He dreams he can still see the stars,
and relives infamous moments in time—
especially the one when aliens came
and the dinosaurs ate every single one.
He’s seen a lot, this lizard, and the
thousands of years have taken a toll.
His therapist, a chameleon who doesn’t
believe in reincarnation, worries about him.
His mother makes him fly-pies and cries
at night into tiny green throw pillows.
The lizard gazes up at the sky, wishing
the aliens would give it another go.