Come be lost with me.
I have a number ten can of beef ravioli,
a case of Vienna sausages,
forty-four jars of peanut butter,
apples and oranges.
I want that paper mache turkey that
travels from set to set on a
TV soap opera show -
first out at Tent City,
then to St. Augustines Student Center,
then to me -
so fine.
I want my grandmother and my Uncle Seth,
transformed by the company of angels,
to come back from the next world,
carrying side dishes of
cranberries, walnuts and greens.
I want my old cat to come home.
I'm thankful for toilets,
running water,
a bed.
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