Day Thirty-six

Today's words:

Button

Sedative

Eagle

Passport

Kipper

Practice

"Try to relax," she said, and pushed the button.

He could feel the sedative

Enter his vein. He imagined he was a eagle,

Flying everywhere, with no need for a passport.

He remembered his mother promising him a kipper

After football practice.

And after practice

He'd button

His coat and go get a kipper.

Some childhood memories can be a sedative,

Or act as a passport, 

Giving us the wings of an eagle.

But unlike like the eagle

We need to practice

In order to fly, and a passport

To travel. "Push the button

"Again," he pleaded "I need more of that sedative.

"Or maybe a kipper."

"I'll take a kipper,"
The boy said. His football jersey had a picture of an eagle.
His mom popped a sedative.
Football practice
Was so stressful.  It really pushed her button,
More so than the kid's. But they said it was a passport

To adulthood. As if you needed a passport
To get old. "Eat your kipper
"And button 
"Your lip. Act like the eagle
"On your shirt. Next practice
"I'm taking the sedative

"First." And as the new dose of sedative
Kicked in his passport
To oblivion was stamped. No practice
Required here. He felt flat as a kipper
But strong as an eagle.
He pushed down on the button

Again. Anything can be a sedative, even a kipper, 
Or the old stamps in a passport, or the eagle
On a football jersey. With practice we can always reach that button.