Our New Planet



We’re polishing our new planet
with light that curves
like warm spaghetti

trees grow sideways
concrete stays wet forever
and you can’t not do
what you want to do

cars improve with age
gravity works in reverse
there is no counter clockwise
and the equator is everywhere

a tidy oval, our new planet
a bold, jaunty turquoise

preferring small towns, big rivers
wide-brimmed hats, red cabooses

plunging necklines
and rumbling, rambling trains of thought


by the boy poets on their new planet