My moony balloon is heavy,
White knuckles and callouses to prove it;
It drags me across the sea and
Deserts; through jungles (I was almost
eaten by a lion and trampled by a rhinoceros).
Sometimes it wanes and I lose sight of it,
My arms grow tired when I have to put wax on it,
It goes into hiding when people try to worship it,
And when it’s full, the whole world goes crazy over it.
Once, I brought it into a circus tent
And what an extravaganza when we floated away,
It startled the pachyderms
Who were all despondent and completely agape —
They were floating on their feet and appeared to be Gothic in shape!
But now, I’ve fallen into despair, tilting my eyes
Into an empty sky; my moony balloon has disappeared.
I’ve searched everywhere — underneath my bed,
In a parade; posted missing posters, all to no avail;
And then my worst fear: my sister popped it with a sewing pin!
Copyright © 02/17/18 lance sheridan®