To throw

I want to throw
A party,
Where every invitation
Comes in a tube,
And it’s held in a community theatre,
And in that tube,
Along with the invitation,
Are the instructions,
And all the necessary pieces
For a model rocket,
That can actually be fired off.

And then between the invitation period,
And the party itself held elsewhere,
In a black painted box for dreams,
And this world of let’s pretend,
Where time can bend, and never end.

The ones and twos and threes and fours
Invited for s’mores and stories on elevated floors,
Through side doors,
On the First St.
Would complete the project
As individuals or as teams,
And then at the end of the evening of let’s pretend,
Comes the firecracker from your dream,
Blowing all of the rockets at the same time,
While listening to Rocket Man,
Drinking a fine example of
Our personal favorite is.

That’s how dreams continue to
Kill death.


Being heard, stirred, and perhaps cured by life's many hidden images and the written-spoken word.
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