You

You hatched, slimy and naked, from an alien egg

You chased me around a community pool and bit the back of my leg

You rented a New York apartment and put it in my name

You stole all the words from my mouth before they were said

You grew mushrooms on my basement wall at ninety degree angles

You deceived each of my demons into thinking they were angels

You hid a howler monkey in my house who was quick to anger

You caught centipedes felled from air vents of our fifth wheel camper

You drew a fake map to mars and called me the cartographer

Finally, you anchored my ankle so I would stay tethered

Rather than float on away to those dreamscapes again

Where my mind makes a monster of the greatest of men.