rescued from the cold confines of Antarctica
I say au revoir to my penguin companions
I am a block of ice
from the land of the frozen tundra
inhospitable and desolate
I can hear
blades turning like a jet engine
727, 747, 767, A320
Boeing, Airbus, Bombardier too
GE, Rolls-Royce, Pratt & Whitney
throttle up
non-stop—no baggage
undoubtedly arousing suspicion
close my eyes and here I go
spinning pulsating
chopping dicing liquifying
then suddenly all is quiet
like a late cold winter night
my remains are poured into a glass
with some other frozen concoction
trying to help somebody hang on
I come down down down
stick a little straw and plastic umbrella in me
I am ready to drink
