It is only water and it only holds
you long enough to toss a coin
between its jets and wish if magic's
what you believe in, and you believe
the cosmos at that moment
will turn its megatons of matter
in your direction like a radio
telescope in the Mexican dustpan
bleeps messages to little green men
who answer in pig–latin code,
they are important friends and wish
you peace. You tell me so.
It is only water and it only holds
you long enough to toss a coin.
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