I remember a game
I played when I was childish
Where up I’d pick a fancy stick
And proceed to go quite wildish.
It would be, at the same time,
A lightsaber, a gun,
A steering wheel, banana peel,
A ticket: Admit One.
I could walk around the woods
With some tree’s lifeless limb
And make of a day of naught but play,
Walking and swinging him.
Now I’m big and childish
But have less inclination
To go outside and take a ride
On my imagination.
Today I pray to everything
That before I’m old and sick
I’ll meet just five folks more alive
Than my beloved stick.
The Daily Travesty 