When I’m older
Like sixty eight and forty odd years past my prime
I’ll have a cat named MEOW-lnir
So all my grandchildren will know
That my love of puns and comic books is not to be fucked with.
I will stand two hundred feet tall with a cane
And I will whisper incantations into the clouds
To make it rain
I will be the magic man
My descendants will tell stories
About the time I once gambled with trolls
For nothing but a pair of shoes and a box full of moonlight
Or the time I learned to speak to birds
Or how I melted a sword into the shape of a pen
Traded a watch with a squid for ink
And wrote poems for the foxes that ran around at night
They will tell these stories
After I am long since dust
Long ago brought back into the universe
Pushed back into the rib of this ship we call the cosmos.
When I’m older
I will lie a lot more,
But never admit it
Because the stories will tell more truth
Than I ever could
