for the Weekly World News
They keep saying I’m a threat.
Bringing up that time
when I was ten
and I bit the alien baby.
No one bothered to ask me why.
Let me tell you,
He asked for it
when he reached
with his podded
fingers, trying to touch
my ears. I’m tired
of being touched
and prodded, but I’d take it
if I could just once
meet Meghan McCain.
I’d sing her a song. Maybe
“I Want to Hold Your Hand.”
But, I wouldn’t
try to hold
her sweet looking
pink hands
unless she
made the first move.
They won’t even let me
see her at her book signings.
You know she wrote a great book
“My Dad. John McCain.”
I’m always turned away
from her at rallies, even when
I show up empty handed,
pockets turned out, toboggan
pulled down to cover my ears