BALLAST - Poem
BALLAST
(Copyright 2011, by Dave Kiffer)
The plane is nearly empty
We would love to sit in First Class
Where our glutes could spread
Like butter melting into the rich leather
Of the wallets of the business class
While we fill our souls with gratis
Wine and morning bloody marys
But the disembodied voice tells us
To remain in our assigned seats
So we remained seated, assigned
Far apart like so many lights dotting
The Great American Empty
Which passes far, far below us
Unconcerned that we pass
Overhead, like so many rocks
Laded into the hold, equidistant
From the reference datum center
Of a giant silver pterodactyl
Holding gravity, dear gravity, at bay
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