choosing my avatar

no three-mile islands this week

or texas panhandle asteroid hits

or central jersey terrorist cells

that the sun really has 4.5 billion

and there are galaxies a zillion

years of lights away and we 

are so not alone

whatever physics that means

even when, like now, i am upside

down, i won’t be

let go.

and i’m not pixels

in some overlord’s computer simulation

just roboting along joysticked over

another cliff stuffed with grenades.

but my heart doesn’t stop and when

i look up I see unicorns on parachutes

and I remember how to breathe

without thinking and

and I find an olds cutlass

in a cvs parking lot

and when i look in the mirror

i’m way past eighty so i guess

i didn’t need that umbrella insurance

although the top is down

and the greyblue thunderheads

exploding and I might be hit

but I’ll play the lottery instead

and what do you know:

a leprechaun on my dashboard

dancing so even if I lose

I’ll keep stopping when the light

is red. And that if this is all a dream

and someone out there counts praying

when i will wake

up

i’ll still be married

to the same person

with the same two children

in the same bedroom on

the same street with the

same job and bodybrainmind.

oh.

a nerved-out goldendoodle.

and two cats

who will remain

forever smarter

than me. or is that i?