A little girl and her father broke into my house
Their aim was to steal my daddy’s records
Later they said it was to open a bar
There were way more records there than I remembered
Crates and boxes stacked on top of each other
They let me keep some of the Doors’ records
I don’t know how they knew I liked that band
I panicked, knowing how long my dad had kept and preserved his collection
My sister showed up somewhere, somehow
I asked her to call the police, but she refused and refused
I was bewildered
I finally got a phone, but it didn’t work.
I found a gun
But it was a water gun
It shot out pink goo at the offenders
Finally I flashed to the scene of a hollowed out lake


We must have looked like witches and wizards
Flying on our homemade broomsticks
Soaring just below the clouds
Swan-diving into pillows of treetops
The feeling was indescribable-
Being in control
Until a sister sold me down the river
Placed you on sale to the highest bidder
Words were exchanged
My heart took flight and was broken

God and the devil were in cahoots that night.