Kid sitting at the edge of a dock.
Legs swinging in free fall.
Wood scrapes into his hands.
He thinks that the stars can talk to him.
He thinks they are whispering that they’re his best friends,
And that they want him to
Do even better
Work a little harder
Stay up a little later
Poor kid doesn’t understand
He’s killing himself on accident
, and then the astronomer actually looked up at the stars and forgot everything.
"Happy New Year!"
"I got a little lost; can you show me the way?"
"Inauguration day is just around the corner!"
"Welcome to eleventh grade. You're almost out!"
"Hi, my name's what's your name?
It’s a skull-shaped pot of wilted flowers on the porch waiting for the tide to rise, pick it up, and take it away to Dreamland, where it belongs.
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