Infinitely Possible

If we could all be'a spaceman

  Earth'd be empty, and
  Crops wouldn't grow, and
  Busses wouldn't go, man.
Who's makin babies
  When there's the cosmos to explore?
Who's writing Hamlet
  When feet don't touch dirt anymore?

This is for the teachers and preachers 

The trash collectors and loan rejectors
The geriatric walmart greeters and postgrad yuppy  wallstreeters.
This is for you and you is beautiful

If we could all be spacemen

  Kids wouldn't flirt, then
  Love wouldn't hurt, then
  Life wouldn't work, End?



Painting by Randy Conner.  Words by Fred Watford.