published in Volume 2, Issue 4 on July 27, 1995
Their heads are filled with helium. That's why they float Above the rest of us With their feet dangling. They are the balloon people. Hummingbirds are their enemies. They call their fathers Dad, Never Pop. They fight a lot, But, unless they're cornered, They never fight dirty Or blow things Out of proportion. Sometimes, though, They seem to enjoy Making derogatory remarks About solid-headed folk. They are not good dancers, But their songs are among The merriest on earth. They giggle and blush If you talk to them About freedom. Last week one of them Forgot to stay outdoors. Now he's stuck at the top Of my cathedral ceiling. You can't simply climb a step ladder And pull the guy down. He'll just bite and kick and scratch And mutter nasty things about your sister. But eventually he'll just shrivel up And fall to the floor. That happened once before And I came home one afternoon And found the dog Playing with the poor devil's Little paisley bow tie. I yelled at the dog And accused him of killing The little balloon man. The dog just stared at me and growled In a silly, high-pitched voice.