I put a braid in your hair and
you never noticed

because they spent
all of our time
trying to belittle you -
my John -
I could have been your Yoko.

And I so dearly recall
the revelations of engines
coupled with greasy hangovers
outside my window
my little blonde alarm clock.

I put a thorn in your braid and
you never even noticed
because your Julia held your starship hand
and you crossed galaxies

while I hid on a full moon
and sang songs to mountains
made of stars and
obscene coffees and
the taste of dirt-grit donuts at horrible hours

we picked the corn from the fields
and tipped the farmers cows
but at the end of the day
and the beginning of our night
we still just played those same old songs

and pretended we had another home to go to.