regrets only

space aliens kidnapped my brain,
stuffed it down their pants,
came on it with their long slimy pencil-thin
dicks.
yes, space aliens kidnapped my brain,
then showed it a good time up
there amongst the planets and alongside
the stars. space aliens got-off repeatedly
on my kidnapped brain, then politely returned
it cum-drippy, and moon-struck,
comet-tail-dusted, and stellar-delighted.
**
now, with my kidnapped-by-space-aliens-
and-fucked-by-space-aliens's-pencil-thin-dicks brain
put back smoothly inside my head,
i seem restless, worried,
distracted -- lost, violated, and
raw -- adrift in the universe, severed
like chicken heads
pecking each other to death.
**
the moon is a werewolf, and
i am the silver bullet.
my toenails have turned gray,
and pedicure seems useless.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem first appeared in FUCK!, February 2009. It was recently published as a broadside by 48th Street Press. And it also appears in my book String Bean, published by BareBackPress in March of 2018.)