Out of the brilliant sky in Dealy Plaza
Like a spinning taco chip of fate
Into the salsa bowl of cosmic wonder
Dropped a fragment of the head of state
Caught it bare-handed in full extension
Like Willie Mays at the Polo Grounds
Except I didn’t hit the cut off man
I kept it for myself
Now it’s…
In the center of my reliquary
In the basement of my bungalow
Behind the picket fence that leans like crooked teeth
In my scale model of the grassy knoll
Tourists coming through may find me creepy
But fees just love me, this I know
I see bags