It came down on me like a ton of bricks,
With the heavy fist of gravity helping its 9.8m/s/s descent
And inertia was celebrating opposite day.
So I let my nose wander through the botanical gardens on an eventful Friday afternoon
There was nothing else to do.
The echoes of laughs and carnival bells playing on to the edge of a memory as I trotted through the rows of flowers.
So, here I am now
Where am I, again?
Can you smell the clown faces, peeking up from below the petals? Can you taste the cotton candy blooms puffing up from the green sweet-stems?
That would be my imagination, dancing like a three year old up and down these vibrant aisles.
Green plants, red plants, tall plants, Smarty Pants
With Albert’s hair and Vincent’s eyes.
It’s hot out here
Don’t tell, but I think I’m melting
My warm, wool sweater itches but I can’t take it off because it’s soft and Mommy said not to
Frosty the Snowman is tapping on the glass windowpane because he’s lonely and my inner child has been in timeout for so long
They want to sneak off to Neverland and play with Peter and the Boys.
I feel like singing,
“You are old and decrepit, but I am young and spry”
The floor is upside down
The sky is tilting sideways
And I am somewhere in between, climbing the beanstalk that will take me to a place just left of insanity and just right of the funfair.
The Great Butterflies of Creativity are flying by me in solar-powered airplanes
I wish I could fly
That way, I could smell patriotic like that American flag at the top of the pole
Fly like the eagle it stands for
The world would be a better place
Se conzoni sono state pronunciate
The pen is eliminating my argument, erasing my words,
Maybe they don’t want to be told, they like secrets
Curiosity killed the Cat, after all
It killed me, too
Its waves have overtaken me and now sweep me away,
To somewhere extraordinarily lawless.
With the heavy fist of gravity helping its 9.8m/s/s descent
And inertia was celebrating opposite day.
So I let my nose wander through the botanical gardens on an eventful Friday afternoon
There was nothing else to do.
The echoes of laughs and carnival bells playing on to the edge of a memory as I trotted through the rows of flowers.
So, here I am now
Where am I, again?
Can you smell the clown faces, peeking up from below the petals? Can you taste the cotton candy blooms puffing up from the green sweet-stems?
That would be my imagination, dancing like a three year old up and down these vibrant aisles.
Green plants, red plants, tall plants, Smarty Pants
With Albert’s hair and Vincent’s eyes.
It’s hot out here
Don’t tell, but I think I’m melting
My warm, wool sweater itches but I can’t take it off because it’s soft and Mommy said not to
Frosty the Snowman is tapping on the glass windowpane because he’s lonely and my inner child has been in timeout for so long
They want to sneak off to Neverland and play with Peter and the Boys.
I feel like singing,
“You are old and decrepit, but I am young and spry”
The floor is upside down
The sky is tilting sideways
And I am somewhere in between, climbing the beanstalk that will take me to a place just left of insanity and just right of the funfair.
The Great Butterflies of Creativity are flying by me in solar-powered airplanes
I wish I could fly
That way, I could smell patriotic like that American flag at the top of the pole
Fly like the eagle it stands for
The world would be a better place
Se conzoni sono state pronunciate
The pen is eliminating my argument, erasing my words,
Maybe they don’t want to be told, they like secrets
Curiosity killed the Cat, after all
It killed me, too
Its waves have overtaken me and now sweep me away,
To somewhere extraordinarily lawless.
Deb L. a rat-loving schizoid with a knack for weirdness. There have been many nights this year when she's gotten negative hours of sleep and the resulting giggle fests are a constant source of raised eyebrows for her teachers. Nonetheless, she's found that such situations define her high school career; who says blondes have the most fun?
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