Big Wishes

I would like a wild mountain pony.
I would like a cobbled little street to ride it on.
These are not my only wishes.
Popcorn would appear for every movie
in the theater premiering my memories
both forgotten and not, so I could live
it all again, but this time with popcorn.
A cloud-stuffed bed for the summertime.
Perpetual, fraught-with-friends summertime.
I would marvel at all the architecture
and sample the inns drunk as night.
Every dog would be met with my bark.
Woof! Woof! How does it feel, fuckers?
I'd send for you to visit me by the pond.
There would always be bread
with which to feed the ducks.
And if these are my wishes, you'd always wear skirts.
I would lock myself away on the weekdays.
The fake things I sew would sprout up real.
This discovery could land me in government.
I guess I've always wanted to win for a living.
Along with the pony I would get four ferrets
and name them Earth, Wind, Water and Dragon.
Dragon is my favorite of the ferret crew.
Through the center of my porch flows a waterfall.
In the back of my yard there's a well
that leads to an underground river of money.
Inside there are pictures of everyone I know,
though the windows are open should they ever go.
I would massage angel's feet, lick off their nail polish,
not give a damn what's on the TV.
I'd eat salted pretzels sans the pretzels
and write poetry inspired by my ferrets
Earth, Wind, Water and Dragon.
One of my poems would be about
the way they sleep so close together,
as if attempting to share a dream.
And soon, I'd be awarded a Fulbright.
Then I'd shoot myself outright.