by John Perrault
I’m flying high and light—never been so
Thoroughly relaxed, so laid-back and loose,
Stretching out on the exit aisle, all socks
And toes, head tilted toward the soft shoulder
Of the bomb-shell next to me. Newspaper
In her lap—the lady reads? Look at that:
Supreme Court Disses Lilly Ledbetter.
What’s that all about? Maybe I should ask?
Maybe not. Do I really want to know?
I was thinking a snooze, not a lecture….
Looks like an older Carrie Underwood—
Hair and clothes—suppose she’d mind if I leaned
Her way a little more? Shot of whiskey helps.
Wonder if she drinks. Boy, she’s something else.
Does you good to shut your eyes, tinker with
Your brain a bit—make up what you’re missing.
I lift the curtain, look out on the clouds—
Like we’re floating on a feather bed, like
We’re flying through pillows—I could take her
In my arms out there, wrap her in my dreams,
Whisper sweet nothings—sweet imaginings:
King and queen of the air at thirty-six
Thousand feet, without so much as a thought
Of the ground—thought of what’s going down, down
There….”Forget all that—your job, your work—come,
Caress my back, my neck, my thighs…caress…”
The paper? As she rips out: Those fucking creeps!
In my good ear! That fucking Court!
So much for sleep.
John Perrault is the author of The Ballad of Louis Wagner (Peter Randall Publisher), Here Comes the Old Man Now (Oyster River Press), and Jefferson's Dream (Hobblebush Books). His poems have appeared in The Christian Science Monitor, Commonweal, Poet Lore, The Comstock Review, and elsewhere. He was Portsmouth, NH Poet Laureate 2003-2005.
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