a loud affair, lots of hooting and hollering,
toy tamborines and cakes with red frosting,
one on each table. Let's hit piñatas,
break them open, letting candy fly through the sky,
sweet rain. When daylight dims, right at dusk,
let's light the backyard torches and strings of lights,
let the flicker and twinkle work magic into our hearts.
Let the big band play by the pool.
And let's dance, boogie, take someone
(anyone) into our arms and twirl to the music.
Let's do this for no special occasion.
Let's start this on Sunday afternoon because the long
stupid work week starts too soon--and too often.
Let's say yes to play and commit to less
work. Let's skip all the way home,
guffawing so hard, our stomachs hurt.