I am drunk at 15,000 feet,
I am drunk on “tonic and gin.”
I make solo love to Rules of Engagement, ((Paraphrased from Billy Joel song, “The Piano Man.”))
I do not want this hit-job anymore.
Below, the Ukraine, next stop Moscow –
Co-pilot, Sister Major Mallory
and I shall behead unfaithful creatures,
present multiple Heads of Outlaw States to
the Joint Chiefs of Staff.
Seen fleetingly on Fox and CNN,
my countrymen look up at us, wonder in awe.
Sip, sip, I see Kiev airport,
three polar bears crawl beneath security fence.
Stupid animals, arctic refugees,
I fire missile, sky just a petty barrier, direct hit,
a gray cloud emerges from wet humus!
Polar bears dead, and Major Mal inquires,
“Have you had one too many, Mickey?”
We gain altitude, and Mallory wonders
if she’ll ever see Alamogordo rain again.
Her helmet can not contain jet black braids,
in time, in conquest time,
my breath will occupy Mal’s oxygen mask.
(Sigh) I am drunk, I am so very drunk.
Come Halloween 2015,
when shooting stars appear, I want to strip her bare.
Drinks cut, “Jesus is now teetotaler Co-Pilot,”
I recalled downing Kamikazes at Happy Hour,
and suddenly, a Mikoyan M.i.G. zoomed overhead,
fired warning shot.
I brace… how taciturn the sky is!
My red eyes thought they saw
“the Glory of the Coming of the Lord.”
Young Russian fighter, I think I know you,
you know me…, and now I no longer care.
Drop southward, drop, spectacular drop –
did Kremlin E.P.A. see who unleashed polar bears?
Twirling free, soul in gravity control,
I contact NORAD, they place me “on hold.”
Faster, faster into the peacekeeping pit,
we eject from cockpit, shuck parachutes,
what will become of Mallory and me? ((Mickey and Mallory, characters from Quentin Tarantino film Natural Born Killers; script written by Oliver Stone.))
Below is cloud illuminated Mount Nebo…,
Sons of Joshua on alert, Palestinian stores gutted,
a Pope never got to kiss Sheremetyevo ground,
our story falls with grace into Qumran cave,
and The New York Times reported another Putin provocation.