The wizard
would be cool
with a pocket protector.
No status required.
He’s striped van,
lead guitar,
sweet harmony.
He doesn’t need to sing.
Maybe a girl
in an eskimo suit
could turn him on.
She looks snug
*sigh*
standing in furs,
spear in hand.
The wizard spots
her through the crowd,
can’t look away.
(Nothing distracts
the great Oz.)
Eskimo girl flees
as her dreams
are inhaled
by a princess.
She doesn’t
see the wizard
come to ask
for her hand.
But he,
as patient as he is cool,
is more than
willing to wait.
There’s plenty of time
to find love
among the fishes.