#99

off sufjan's satan saxophones, 

and while i create verse somewhere in my head from marshmallows,

the dinosaurs are walking around in swamps expecting to survive.

in their pleated iron armor and six-inch spikes off their spines

they could very well have been purple or polka dotted,

'cause who's to say they weren't? who was there?

when i was little i dreamed 'what ifs' like mad, what if

a dinosaur egg hatched in tasmania, and they returned to earth?

i used to think we could coexist-- when i got older i was sure 

we didn't have a chance. nowadays i know the baby would be killed,

probably with a quick clean razor, so as not to upset mothers.

it would throw us all up in the air for a while, though,

sharing this earth with an antiquated boogie monster.

it would not bode well for science.