Happier Things

When feet grow wings

I’ll think of happier things:

Like pocketing textbooks

And catching all your dirty looks.

 

When feet grow wings

We’ll speak of happier things,

And find the cure for anti-freeze

Lies meandering in hyperboles.

 

When feet grow wings

We’ll mock the happier things

To flirt with enlightenment

By exercising our entitlement.

 

When feet grow wings

I’ll chase happier things,

Singing carols like a drunken sailor

At point blank with a tranquilizer.

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