In Jetpacks We Fight Entropy [January 1st | 1/365]

You are an implausible promise to myself
Like a jetpack in the sixties swooping across a child's imagination
Back then my father lived in Houston and Albany
And my aunt was born a U. S. Citizen but I am not a citizen and I
Have been waiting eighteen months to find out whether the government
Will renew my Green Card which is yet another reason why you
Are a jetpack strapped to my imagination held to the ground only by
The knowledge that the one job more dangerous than piloting a jetpack
Is being President of the United States of America and my aunt was no
Future first woman president but she was a childhood friend
To future superstars and a jetpack is not like a comet or meteor but like
A star it's destined to run out of fuel and die.