Theoretically
In the event that I escape,
I'll tiptoe through horizons on a homemade tightrope thread,
Hang upside down on the monkey bar
Of the whitewashed moon,
Front row to meteors and asteroids,
Thousands of kilometers out from everyone

And wear sunglasses and pack my Polaroid,
And take these pictures back and
Show everyone that I could go farther
Than the distance that anyone's eyes can reach;
It'll be a full moon on the day I embark,
An ice cream sandwich and some paper money,
I told you all I'd be prepared

Reach into my pocket for some cereal to feed the stars
Floating away in some bit of my future diary

I only left in January, but
Most people that I knew already
Aged faster than me
Echoing (My favorite part will be when I fall back into orbit
And remember that I'm human again.)