MY BIRTHDAY

For my birthday, I want nothing big

nothing spectacular

something mundane.

I want the world.

It's my birthday

and I should get what I want. So my mother told me

thus it must be so.

I want the rivers to alter flow and collectively spell my name.

I want the trees to become more festive

change shapes to blues and shocking pinks and teflon.

I want the women to want me

and the men

and the three new genders engineered especially for the occasion.

I want the dogs to be my best friend

and to join paws

and become the biggest single dog the world has ever seen.

I want God to ask me for a loan

and me to carefully consider if it's in His best interests to be

so dependent on external sources.

It's important to remain strong.

I want morning roosters to produce hiphop beats

and at day's end, for the moon to silently sweep down and gently offer me a kiss.

I want blow jobs all day long

except for when I'm anally penetrated.

This is my birthday wish.

Also, though, I want a cure for asthma

so I can blow out all these damned candles�