Great Job

Yay! 

Yesterday was a good day. Yesterday, you totally get a star.

New Poem:

Waltzing Matilda

Tonight, the stars dance on tiny white tables
To the music of the singing waiter moon.
And she sat, in all her glory, perched upon her chair,
Angled.
Like an ant, I march from her toe to her skirt hem.
I am a man of substance.
My breath turns to words I will only recall when I arrive home.

When her star eyes dance to the music of that white moon
I am ashamed.
My ant body will soon be crushed under the heel.
I am crawling, digging dirt, being placed under the magnifying glass.
I will go outside, I will greet her with the words of great men.

Alas,
The carpet seems to be eating my laced up shoe.