Postcard #36

September 10th, 2015

Hanging with my friend Jim
Who's a four-feet tall little gremlin
Who likes to eat pizza and likes to sing
And oh, did I mention that he's seven?
We're at the cemetery where his grandpa's buried
We're lighting candles at the grave
And I hear him say

We're just tourists on vacation from not existing
We're just tourists on vacation from being nothing

Where did you hear that, Jim?
Was it your dad, was it Aunt Elizabeth?
His mom says, "You know that thread on the internet
About creepy things that kids have said?"
Jim says he heard it somewhere, catches a leaf midair
He holds my hand as we walk one
I catch our reflection

Two little tourists on vacation from being nothing
Two little tourists on vacation from not existing