I learned the secret of serenity
by waterboarding daffodils.
My Buddha is landfill.
My mantra choked

from a bluebird’s neck.
It’s ruthless, the pursuit
of happiness. Eighteen
seconds have elapsed.

My happiness is twice
your size, gold-chained
to the lamppost. It strains
its waistcoat as it grows.

Flog a sunbeam, harness
a cloud. You should be feeling
five times happier now:
the world is your Kleenex.

It’s been a long sixty-three
seconds in Attawapiskat,
but my happiness digs
diamond mines, slobbers

parasol knobs on the Rhine.
I sweeten my cantaloupe
with stolen breastmilk.
Peak joy is at nine

times nine – saddle up, dear.
An asteroid of happiness
is blasting through
the atmosphere.