If

If you could come back and kiss me
I’d gladly relinquish the Amazon forests.
If you could lower me on to this splintered floor
I’d merrily butt through a plastic ocean.
If you could squeeze up this right nostril,
smack my brains and explode my lungs,
infect our mighty world with one great sneeze,
then I’d be pleased to latch on to your waist
and fly by the Milky Way depositing golden hockers.
Why do you suppose I’d be so cheerful?
Because you’re dead and I’m dead.
For God’s sake, don’t delay.
Massacre us all!