Star-craving Scientologist,
starving, raving
mad lover in bed,
stabs his son for Abraham, the alien
from an adjacent
time scheme.
This is my home planet;
my porch is scorched
with liquid fire from
alien-Abraham's molten mouth.
In Him we are unfazed,
unafraid of human lazers, eyes.
Abraham is framed
on the running wall,
running red with blood.
Gravitationally inclined,
walls fall apart and time
expands, relatively speaking.
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