Among the Helicopters

Ali!

Ali, come inside right now
I will not have you laying out on the roof
Like a strung out junkie

What are you looking at?

There's nothing up there
There's nothing in the sky

Just clouds and stars
And helicopters
And balloons that little children
Didn't care about

Now come inside

Do I have to come out there and get you?

You know I'm afraid of heights
What if I come out there
And I get dizzy
And I fall and die?

Won't you feel bad?
Won't you feel bad when your mother is dead
And it's completely your fault?

The police might investigate
They might think you wanted me dead
Because you're jealous of my beauty

. . . . .

That was a joke

. . . . .

He's not up there
You're twenty
You should know that

He's really not

He's not among the helicopters, Ali
I can promise you that

Your father hated helicopters
He thought that was how he was going to die
He thought it was going to be a helicopter crash

I suppose in retrospect
When he was near the end
He should have just hopped in a helicopter
And at least gone down in a blaze of glory

. . . . .

You have to come inside at some point
It will rain and it will snow and sun will beat down on you in July
And you'll either come in or you'll die
And if you die I'll be alone with your brother
And doing that to me would just be cruel

Please come inside, sweetie

I'll do whatever you like
I'll make you cookies
I've never done it before
But I'll learn and then I'll make them
And then you can come inside
And we'll get fat together

We'll be two fat orbs
Sitting at the kitchen table
Mourning your father

Won't that be fun?

. . . . .

You have to come inside, Ali
It's getting dark
It won't be nice out here in the dark
It'll be scary

Little rooftop marauders will find you
And drag you back to their lair
Where they'll dress you in skimpy clothing
And make you sing Lena Horne songs to them
While they drink their ale

It'll be awful

Much more awful than the awfulness inside with me

...Believe it or not

. . . . .

I love you, sweetie

Come inside, will you?

You can't see Dad up there
Amongst the helicopters
He's even higher than that, honey

He's with the balloons
All the red and blue and green balloons
Free from the torment of childish hands

Ascending into the Great Unknown
So free from their earthly tethers
You can't even see them

. . . . .

Come on, Ali

Come inside