Automatic Rocking Horse
J.C.D. Kerwin

Let’s play hide-and-seek
in the fallout shelters
we built from pick-up sticks
and a barrel of monkeys
we found
buried in the sand.

I have a pocket full
of licorice whips, and
I’ll give you
a penny for your thoughts if
you tell me what it takes
to fill a double-barrel shotgun
full of daisies instead.

I’d rather play jacks
and read the Hardy Boys
in the post-Apocalyptic world
with you than
live a long, long time
in the never-ending peace
I call monotonous depression.

We could be kids again.
It could be our Mad Max movie,
and we could rule the land
with slingshots and bubblegum balls.

I could Marco Polo our way out of here.

Dec., 2011