Dinosaur

An explosion through your front door.
A vicious dinosaur appears.
He wants to eat your head,
he says.

But you left all your guns
in your other pair of pants
by your bed, and you're nowhere near
your bed, you're here, about to dance
with this mean-looking dinosaur.

But then he tells you he was kidding
and that he doesn't even like heads.
They have an awkward texture.
He just wanted to make a friend,
he says;
but he has no social skills,
and that is the only way he knows how to say hi.

He apologizes for being vicious and
you go out for ice cream with your new friend,
which is actually nice because people move out of your way
on the street because your friend is a dinosaur.