Mega-Millions

A thunder-colored floater
                              wearing infinite space like
              a cement kimono

a breath away from lights out
in twelve languages

machines beneath the waves
just offshore
attended to by crews of mayan or aztec mechanics
who keep it all rolling

smokestacks hidden in the kelp
spitting plumes of sea-mist out across the sand
& up over the coast highway

where I don't find you

              sunset in a parallel universe
                                                scrawled in crayon colors
                              on the wrong side of a cloud

              & I’m holding on
                                                only so that I can feel it
                              slip away