A weak sun walks alone in a park full of dead leaves
The sun with its hands shoved deep in its pockets,
Frosty breath, alone among its victims.

The sun fled south for the winter
Hovering over the Tropic of Capricorn
Like a golden Aztec UFO
Filled with bright-eyed lunatics

The tropics of winter
Snowmen in bark canoes
Sipping daiquiri ices
Committing suicide in pools under trees
Rejoining Mother Ocean in one last swim

The Peruvian Aborigine Bushmen, and their bamboo cannons and spears,
rowed out in an outrigger canoe to blow the sun from the sky, so that it
might be kept buried in a basket on the beach during the winter.

International skies proceed out into space infinitely, so the next time
the sun is overhead, we shall annex it, and charge a tax to all our
neighbors for each Sunlight-Hour.