Wednesday, May 15, 2013

poem of the day 05.15.13

there is no wine on airplanes

there is no wine on airplanes
that’s not altogether true
they come by once, maybe twice
on the long, transatlantic flights
give you just enough to wet the whistle and little else
not even enough to keep up the buzz
from the airport bar
let the video screens take care of the nerves for you
make you forget the virtual molestation that you received
back at the gate
keep you dumb with tv and movies mid-flight
so that you don’t shit yourself when the turbulence hits
just sit there watching reruns
of the big bang theory or mad men
playing solitaire or black jack
hoping to christ that you don’t explode over the ocean
ending yours and dozens of other mediocre, misspent lives
there is no wine on airplanes
not enough wine anyway
to stop someone from getting nuts
over being forty thousand feet in the air
and freaking everyone else out
so unnaturally high that it’s beyond comprehension
that little ocean down there laughing its ass off
the land over the horizon a shit streak of green and brown
there is no wine to quell this
or whisky
or enough half-warm beer cans in the world
to end the frenzy of five or six or seven hours of stale air and doom
just top 40 music and adam sandler films
in case the plane dips
something to listen to or laugh at
instead of ball and cry over your own mortality
these pricks keeping you sober and sane with the terror
in full capacity of your limbs and mind
so that when the plane nose dives
and hits the runway at 500 miles per hour
you don’t try and strangle these smiling jackoffs when it ends
as they usher your disheveled ass off the plane
with a goodbye
or auf wiedersehen.                               

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