seasons for waiting

all the children in the world 
wait in line to see mickey mouse.
the line serpents down city streets 
& up across the corn fields & the plains 
& the parking lots & 
& the glowing neon fast food lands.
we are good children so we go single file.
one after the other. the girl in front of me
has purple ribbons in her hair. 
sometimes i wonder who tied them. 
we peel clementines as they roll down from the sky.
when it rains we cup our hands & drink.
when it snows we turn into mounds of white.
take a step forward. getting closer.
there are stories about what he'll look like.
a great sphere of fur. a pile of stone.
a wonderful wonderful man with teeth. a statue 
of a real mouse with all its seven arms 
& gleaming eyes. i am scared of mice 
but i tell no one this. 
the stories frighten me. other children 
sing of their teeth & their claws,
ripping trees from the earth in anger.
this is why we are all good children.
patient for our turn. everyone will get a turn.
he wants to see all his creations. we know 
time moves forward. we know there are lives
away from this. one day we will all be adults 
with credit cards waiting in lines 
to purchase anything. i will buy 
a mickey mouse hat & i will buy a soft bed.
sleep comes suddenly & almost uncontrollably.
i get down on my knees & watch as 
the other children get down as well.
our eyelids are heavy & we curl up 
on the floor of the world. sometimes grass,
but often concrete & asphalt. 
if it's a road, cars will honk their horns 
to wake us up so they can pass.
there will be a day when this will all seem
funny. i will laugh with my friends
when i find them. we will sit & tell stories
of our time in the line waiting for him.
everytime i see an adult i wonder
if they are my father. i can't remember 
anything about him. i am selfish 
because sometimes i think mickey mouse
is my father. i think i will come see him
& he will lay his hands on my head.
he will tell me i am royal. i am worthy 
of everything. he will give me a bank account 
& a steering wheel. i will drive a car wherever 
there are roads. i will have a house
& i will watch the line of children 
as they march along, preparing to meet him. 
i know this isn't likely
but on the coldest days it keep me moving.
soon, it will be summer again which is
my favorite season for waiting. 
my skin will glow red in the sun.
water bottles will rolls from the horizons 
towards all of us. we will drink forever
& still feel thirsty. at night,
we will catch fireflies 
& tell stories of rumors.