I would rather
the day-glo of ice cubes down my shirt,
a sweet person’s laugh,
than chase ghosts in a Pac Man arcade machine.

I would rather
Captain Crunch hack my Facebook account,
divulge the details of my love life,
than name all of my cool shady friends.

I would rather
get lost in new Los Angeles,
talk like SpongeBob,
than erase everything done with sloppy-intent.

I would rather
discover a new civilization
with more muscular arms,
rebuilt as part animal.