wild blue yonder

ok, so for the "risk" challenge over at D'verse, i am attempting to write a train wreck, which is not a style of poetry, it's just a train wreck, except with airplanes =)

 

flight seven seventy seven destination

                                                       side-of-mountain 

 

as the flight attendances take their break in the baggage hold playing dice games

the pilot performs stand-up in first class and the last green olive on earth swims

in his

very dry

mar

tin

i

meanwhile

 

                                (the strike-ready snake will not hesitate

 

the headlights of the tracker-trailer will not blink

 

                                political pundits scream theater in a crowded fire

 

                and all the hamsters trade their hamster wheels for happy meals)

 

the inflight meal was a can of worms

the inflight movie was a documentary on the opiate effects of inflight movies

meanwhile

all the corporate risk managers travelling to the annual security convention

block the airplane emergency doors wearing parachutes half-eaten from last year’s

                                                                                           plague of miller

                                                                                           moths  

 

and the traffic courts paved the road to hell with endless debate over the insignificance

of seven hundred and seventy seven good intentions but can’t remember where they

                                                                              put their 

                                                                    prayer beads                                                                     

meanwhile

all the doctor’s doctor their doctrines of the dying patient’s last rite to self-righteousness

 

                (righteousness (noun) a highly volatile substance manufactured in the mind

                dirty burning no alternative fuel always blowing up in someone’s face)

 

meanwhile

a mountain looms

big

purple

majestic

with big purple arms open wide beckoning come to daddy

come to gravity, drop your f bombs over denver and set your engines

on fire

hurry back to earth, a big dumb rock, but also a mother

suddenly scolding us: if you can’t solve your problems yourself, then i will

                                                                               solve them

for you

which is great news for the cockroach dreaming of opposable thumbs