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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