If I shot you in the back of your head,
would you sprout into daffodils and
feel beautiful and useful?
Then if I mowed you over by accident,
might you buzz madly away, an angry bee,
looking for a stinger’s paradise?
Say some guy then smashes your insides out with a swatter.
You would soar above the earth, a robin.
You would love the high life.
Finally, you were reborn into a 34 year old man,
in the middle of a passionate, sexual, smorgasbord
of possibly illegal indulgences with one person.
Would you be surprised if you enjoyed coitus
with the guy who I shot in the head at the
beginning of this poem?