If I had a great balloon, I’d travel
This way and that, and up and down, And throughout the world, from nation to nation, And from people to people. I’d float it into the hole on the top of the earth And visit the ones who live inside. And I’d take it past the stratosphere Into the open expanse of space, Not because I had some appointment to keep, But because I wanted to wander off And follow the need To amble. And I wouldn’t tell the Martians I was coming. I’d just show up and pretend that I was one of them. I’d wander the streets of the alien towns And sit in roadside cafes And watch the people, The alien people, And soak up the thing they are. And then I’d find the downcast Martians there And put my arm around them. I’d make them feel that I was one of them And pretend that I was theirs and they were mine. Yes, if I had a great balloon, I’d travel far. I’d make the universe my passion. And I’m not so sure that that is wholesome. Perhaps there are reasons for the bounds That tie fast to this little earth. I don’t know. But one thing for sure, My heart flies upon a great balloon, It wraps itself around the downtrodden Of people, alien people, not like myself, But like myself nonetheless. And I think that that’s ok.
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