You'll have to excuse me because I don't do this often,
I really am late to this class.
I've been spending my time excavating my bowels, cuz' my head's up inside of my ass.
I went out to my garden, watched the crisp night sky.
I watched and I saw, saw a small plane fly by.
It was blinking as tiny as any one star.
Far and far away... just really... well... far.
But the pilot has dreams to cover horizons, moving from night until dawn.
Forlorn over loved ones, borne fears and his dreams.
Well, a void midnight sky isn't all that it seems.
And my love for you will be like that man, an entire world bottled in a small tinny can.
Against a jetset world, filled with broken ephemera. Papers mocking the fact that I just won't remember her. At least by the time that I'm sixty and withering, a dithering plane that then spirals and crashes. CRUNCH.
But still it soars up there, brave, steady and true. Even though it'll rust, like all planes will do. I just hope when as I oxide, I will think only of you.
....
You know, people say that I'm incapable of love. I just can't love myself unless people love me. But if that's just me, then what else can I be?
I don't really know. I just sit on my porch. I sit and I watch all the planes that we launch.
I'm bitter and jaded, but I feel something in my tummy. And I just have to tell you, because it's really quite funny.
A fucking hoot, as they say in America. And you've just got to listen, it's funny, I'm telling ya.
You listening closely? I'll say this just once.
I can't fly a plane.
