Joan serves my drink

With dilapidating skulls smirking in the sunholes.

 

This is not the time for

            P A N I C

 

Blessings fall from the clouds in brazen

sparks

Shards pierce tender cheeks of a child

Ice melts down the seats

            then freezes again over the extensive floor stripping

Sleet in the cabin

Clamors and Screams

            sucked out of my ears by a force much mightier than wind.

 

A naïve and trusting melody harps in my

            mind

as mothers and lawyers,

cosmetologists and travel agents,

senators, waitresses,

whores and librarians are kidnapped from my eyes.

Stolen by the reality of air pressure

but more importantly a desire for finality

            a n d     f l i g h t.

That’s why we have all come together in the first place,

isn’t it?

I thought it was, but somehow

everyone has abandoned but                 me

and I’m small!

Too insignificant for the drafts to grab?

Certainly I cling to my seat more closely than others.

            Perhaps that’s a bad thing.

 

18 April 2004