104 i’m building a rocket in my backyard out of tube slides and playground hamster mazes

104


i’m building a rocket in my backyard out of tube slides and playground hamster mazes and engines pulled from demolished dodge chargers and hummers and harleys and wwii air plane propellors, dozens of them bolted and strapped together
the captain’s lawn chair leans back where i sit and dream late at night when the city is sleeping and the lights have dimmed so much the moon bursts from the sky
and beside me, a chair from where you can take my hand to clam the tremors of launch as we rumble through layers of atmosphere
i will steer around pockets of steam and potholes to smooth the ride for you, because i know you don’t love to fly on homemade rockets and are only coming because i have promised you that thai noodles on the dark side of the moon are the best around for a few hundred thousand miles and because i promised you an adventure this sunday and you’ve always liked our adventures, haven’t you?
half the reason i want to go is to see how beautiful your eyes are when lit by half a sun and all the stars high above the curve of this world and its shining blue oceans will pale as i gaze into your life alight in the frail shell of the rocket i made for you
never are seconds or breaths more precious than when separated from death by a red plastic shell or when ferrying across our galaxy’s tides on a journey of unknown dimension and time
and i want to know how brightly you shine when lifted above all this world’s grime and the worries that form in lines across faces from unspoken words at just the wrong time
upon these reflections, why wait till sunday
shall we go now, you and i

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