I’ve discovered how alien I am.
I visited the portraits of dead professors,
some perhaps still alive
as sagged lumps of skin.
They looked not at me
but the air around my body.
Feeling as distant from them as anyone else,
I fall back to Saturn and
plummet through its oculus
to the storm’s inert pupil.
I meet the core of its hexagon,
expecting a dear friend.
There’s nobody here.