The reason I devoured that cheesecake
was to prove my mouth could back it up
sauerkraut and erasers, language and fire
I was an invincible consumption machine.
None of this was meant to prevent me
from scheduling a flight on the shuttle
an investigation of space people will watch
on their big screen TVs, full of doubt
about whether I was a double, an agent
who wanted to space walk for Al Qaida.
The students who saw me respected me
because I alone refused to say only milk
could make them grow to my heights.
Instead, I suggested plant food, rope,
and a change of AA batteries every week,
which please the lactose-intolerant
to no end. Teachers had seen me at bars,
living it up on pixie dust, complaining
about the brown M&Ms in my bowls,
signing bottles of Jack Daniels after
pouring down the contents into my gullet.
Is it wrong to party without laughter?
No one would tell jokes about astronauts,
even about space pants. I had a mirror.
It could show the insides of my heart.
In each one was a little you, a little me.
Donald Illich responds to art, economics, and Country Music not paying him for his poems.