I want us to have a little country together

Made up of scratch paper,

Every inch of it overwhelmed with poems and random thoughts.



No wire fences but pens and pencils waiting to be adopted

Taken into the safety of our hands



Not shores or beaches

But open skies filled with imagination and room

Lots of room to think, and question, and ponder

And question, and ponder

And question and ponder



Books will be our passports

Songs will be our visas

No invasions or wars

Only consensual agreements



Our country

Filled with strange people

You and me.