NaPoWriMo: Day seven

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


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