If I had a great balloon, I’d travel
This way and that, and up and down,
And throughout the world, from nation to nation,
And from people to people.
I’d float it into the hole on the top of the earth
And visit the ones who live inside.
And I’d take it past the stratosphere
Into the open expanse of space,
Not because I had some appointment to keep,
But because I wanted to wander off
And follow the need
To amble.
And I wouldn’t tell the Martians I was coming.
I’d just show up and pretend that I was one of them.
I’d wander the streets of the alien towns
And sit in roadside cafes
And watch the people,
The alien people,
And soak up the thing they are.
And then I’d find the downcast Martians there
And put my arm around them.
I’d make them feel that I was one of them
And pretend that I was theirs and they were mine.
Yes, if I had a great balloon, I’d travel far.
I’d make the universe my passion.
And I’m not so sure that that is wholesome.
Perhaps there are reasons for the bounds
That ties us fast to this little earth.
I don’t know. But one thing is for sure,
My heart flies upon a great balloon,
It wraps itself around the downtrodden
Of people, alien people, not like myself,
But like myself nonetheless.
And I think that that’s ok.
