Whose turn is it to be changed?

Propositioned beings outside
my species, dreamed of bees,
girl in the cake, one step below
sainthood. I wanted to fly
around in a helicopter
saving lives.

You were tumescent pressure.
You were nerve release.

We relived
the car crash over and over -
Thanksgiving, a 17 year old boy drunk
at the wheel. The police used infrared
light to locate his body in an onion field.

You swallowed a Kennedy half dollar,
pretended to choke.

In this play, I'll be the Disney
Princess Magical Talking Kitchen.
You will be my father.