Thanks for the Memories
His costume broke:
unseamly extrusion
right out in front;
his mauve and ropy belly
shocked playtime party-goers.
Jump-pack battery depleted,
he hoofed it to the
van/lander and headed up,
leaving parts unknown
littering the ball pit
and game room.
All eyes lasered in on Rodney
rideless, parentless, on a hot seat.
“Not my real dad,”
he said weakly.
“Sorry about the mess.”
end
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