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Bottle-Rocket Joyride
K.C. Collins This is the brain: the organic machine humming on caffeine steady as she goes, sir unleaded chocolate and vitamin routine This is the brain on fire: critical mass of all the Right Stuff rocket-fuel injected ignition of neurons bombs bursting in air barrel-rolls and loopy-loops and never mind the cranial stress-cracks I could go straight to the moon if it weren’t for this distraction of stars How can I stay the course when there’s a whole bleeding sunset to fly through and see? Control tower barking about constellations of symptoms Rip off the com-link and go solo so high higher higher We could take a lightning tour of the planets or crash the gate at the edge of the universe Haven’t you ever wanted to explode your horizons? When I was a child I put a pinhole in a birthday balloon we all shrieked with laughter as it zipped and zoomed on its crazy flight defying gravity until its air was spent and it fluttered to the floor: empty, lifeless, and once again subject to all the rules. We could boldly go We could slingshot ’round the sun We could have a high old time We could hijack Spock for fun A crackling voice from someplace on the groundfloor: “What goes up…” Yeah, yeah, we know the rest. Just shut up and let me fly while I can. © Copyright 2007 by K.C. Collins |