The Alien, unfazed, steps to the plate,
a coil of hard cock and blackest eyes.
Stevedore arms pull back the sculpted ash
and then unfurl their fury at The Sphere.
“Look at my shit!” his mighty swing exclaims,
big balls swangin’ as that little ball rides
a one-way ticket all the way downtown
to History, and what may lie beyond.
“Look at my shit!” “Look at my shit!” Again
and again, the wood and the screaming yarn.
Ike and Tina. Sean and Madge. Bullets and
bodies. Let them all hit the fucking floor.
Four on the floor. Four on the board. Dat ass
on deez nuts. My shit all up in your eyes.
Ashley Benson’s lips were evil candy
on my Eden-snake tongue. That Hudgens, tho,
she got that Efron stank, that Skynyrd smell.
But you, resplendent Alien two point
oh my GOD — your fauxhawk and my cornrows
merge sexy, like blue Avatar weavers
(no Sigourney) as you plunge your hot dog
into that apple pie and skeet all in
the face of the baseball gods. Look at your
shit. God DAMN. Look at your shit.
James Franco is an actor, director, documentarian, artist, author, master of ceremonies, and poet. In April 2014, Graywolf Press issued Franco’s first collection of poetry, Directing Herbert White.