time, this one
and space, the here
of the now that
you've been given,

a gift, the biggest
through which your
fabulous machine
passes in dance, love
or anger.  Games

for the mischief maker
(notice the chief) always
pleased, except when not,
to be in charge. Sex

for the miracle of
the moving mass
called body.  We are
fruit of those loins.

Singing dancing
carrying guns through
alien desert lands,
your choice
your gift
your miracle.