Flood Myth

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If I could talk to the moon, I would tell it to make me a tittle-tattle garden party by the neighbor’s front lawn, then I would ask tomorrow to hop on a Uber, zap through the streets, serve me up a plate on the yard, splash the naked truth on the driveway and welcome it. But honest to goodness truth, I can’t talk to the moon and even if I could, the sun would brusquely pop like a road runner with a spaghetti plate on its neck and say “hello, I am your Lyft driver; what’s your story?!” Yup, it would!

©️ Angela Aguiar

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The Mailman and The Envelope

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If I ask Him to take me to the moon, He will drive me straight up there
and tell me to sit tight.
If I tell Him I have been to the moon, He will tell me to hang in there, the road is not as narrow and clear but full of bumps and potholes, one hot air balloon festival.
I, for one, sit still looking pretty under the porch, waiting for the mailman and the envelope!

©️ Angela Aguiar