what do you 

 believe?

   is there a 

 place where the moon 

    shines? 

a place where rivers go to dry?
a place with flowers and bees
and stories by F. Scott Fitzgerald?

some say it exists- those people 

are called by various names-

   listen and then act

accordioningly-

   polka polka polka 

   /// leather sandals 

  and a bucket of mini coronas

don't make this shit up

      but they sweat 

in the noonday sun 

are you with me here?

       catch a ride 

    to the coast 

you'll see-

      get a corn dog

    at the fair -

      ride the tilt-o-whirl
     the past is catching up!

     pretty soon

it will be here -

 so don't stop

    and don't look behind 

      or you'll turn 

to salt 

                 you crybaby