That creature
sings in a bright voice,
undulating like kitchen curtains in summer

That creature
wears a gold lamé dress and has a slender body
moving like seaweed on the radio

That creature
is a swaying whirlwind,
sideways in a lingering memory in Texas

This creature
is a moaning hologram
in a swaying long-stretchedness,
from a 1972 Chevrolet Bel Air,
all the windows rolled down,
on the way to Beto & Hatchet at Zachry's asphalt plant,
with KRLD turned up loud
and hair flying

Yes, that creature
is an anonymized longing
in a cool hallway
in a hot world

This creature
is a science-fiction being
high upon a vast stage
on an alien world;
a projection among watched multitudes;
a feverish frenzy
in a semi-developed image
in a red-hovering Li Po Room
above Niemisel
in variable cloudiness