Thursday, August 08, 2013


When they demolish your house, 
I want to be there.

When they treat you for death, 
I want to hear that you feel great.

Hey, when that guy beans you with a baseball, 
I want to be able to say: Go Get ‘Im, Tiger.

When you forget who you are, 
I want to follow you from the hospital
to the shelter. 

I will be the one 
with the balloon 
that is red and fat 
and no one knows 
is really a satellite
for watching you. 

I want to join you on another
earth that looks just like this one, 
only perfect, smaller, and the size 
of a warm, kind toaster.

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