I. Porsche falls in Love
Someone had finally made it all the way
through the funny video game she had created
across the make-believe moat to her
bubblegum castle that many had tried
to swim before but had only been gobbled
up by their own psychedelic crocodiles or
drowned by the swirl of whirlpools
that really were nothing but chocolate
ice cream in the bottom of her cut glass bowl.
There had never before been a prince
that knew for sure that his white horse
was made only of marshmallows and that
to get across the moat would only involve
blowing bubbles into vodka and drinking
fresh squeezed lemonade and allowing
that same breeze that carried her laughter
to carry him too and now he had just simply
arrived riding on the tip of a fountain pen -
and the castle walls suddenly morphed into
a big bouncy Zeppelin that carried them both
away across the fields and cities that at night
resembled only tiny boxes filled with jewels
that played songs when you lifted the lid
to reveal tiny ballerinas lost in the joy of a spin.
