Ballast

I think I need ballast.
I'm floating away.
Grounded objects are shrinking
at an alarming rate.
Brontosaurs become puppies,
oceans slosh in my teacup,
I step over gravel
that was mountains, moons.
The Peloponnesian Wars
rage in my Cheerios,
the kings and queens of England
doze, tucked in my mailbox.

I think I need ballast.
Can you lend me some?
Melted-down doorknobs,
a truckload of bowling balls,
a boatload of newsprint,
Walter Cronkite's mustache 
to add gravitas to my levity.
I'm trying to be serious
but I'm seriously zooming -

as Earth shrinks to donut, donut to hole,
the whole big shebang deflates, poofs, caves in,
as I space out to outer space,
out of sight, 
out of mind,
outta here.