I stole their rocket

I went and stole their rocket

I went up past the high gold Buddhist temples

Past the pressed metal factories

Over the gunshot brotherhood

And even beyond Mr. Moon

Just sweeping off his edges,

Peeking down his holes and cracks

And it’s so cold up there

In their thin space lantern

Fragile as an empty shell

But I left all the little ones behind

To keep on, on their own

I left them dangling on the cliffs

And all the worlds behind me

Were tight clenched fists

See, each planet I passed was tinier than tiny

Smaller than you thought they could be

Just hand held little gumballs

Some spinning, others still

Though they all seemed to ignore me

Things up there are pure and silent

No mommies yelling or babies crying

And all the catholic priests end up there

They just float by,

Waving their frail old man fists crossly

I despaired at the thought of the cliff hangers

And doctors and dancers

I left behind on my itty bitty homeland

Just dangling, waiting for answers

And incapable of receiving them

For they would never see the sea of space,

The liquid blackness that swallows anger and sadness

And the emptiness, the pointlessness of routine and religion

Which shows itself clearly up there

All truths as plain as the stars