NaPoWriMo #23: Crisis on Infinite Earths

If I could've chosen one,
it would've been one
where the stars were closer,
where we could feel like
one big family.  Where I
could've grabbed a hold
of one of the gods, planted
a huge smooch on her lips,
while being able to hide on
our globe from her revenge.
Our cousins the planets
would come by to play poker
or gossip about the moon,
how he romanced each girl
he met, striking her with light
which is inescapably romantic.
Better this than another earth
where we were painstakingly
formal.  Silverware all polished
the tuxedos chosen, the china
tossed to the far corners
of the universe.  I'd refuse
to come, except in my black
gag t-shirts, my unwashed shorts,
and slippers.  The heavenly
bodies would get stuck up
within me, refusing to notice
or answer my questions.   I'd
have to scream to get heard.
I'd quit when my throat hurt,
when all I became was noise.