Somewhere over the star

Somewhere over the star

bluebirds fly

into telephone poles

and kill themselves,

while distressed rainbows frown

at adolescent thunder clouds.

Many-faceted faces glare

at the world

in its escapades.

And I—

I think.

Therefore I am

slightly discontented

with international affairs

and stupid bluebirds.

A gay minister dances

with everybody’s dream woman.

Somewhere over a star.

Why, oh why can’t I

be a bit more content?