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 na�ve 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