Sitting on an airplane about to depart for the great unknown
for the next two and a half days.
I have a cup of coffee in my crotch and an egg mcmuffi stuffed away
the Lincoln ride was smooth as the silver dawn glinting off the cool buildings
and fall suddenly freshens up my nose with musty change
but shut up the poet with real bullshit. Air conditioning
is hissing hard cold fake air into my hair
i'm reminded of a perfect year ago sitting on a plane
in Missoula. Looking at the grey an blue and brown and greens
and loving the distance. The unknown. The new and the possible
i love it still. I'm killing the poet slowly so he can be reborn.

Adios amigos

Mikie