(an hour before)

Somewhere high on Ohio’s sky
when the meds ran out
and I became just Jack and Coke
with empty words but dressed so well.
Desperation in my voice,
I used my every pick-up line
on girls of your cabin crew today.
“Sir, I think you’ve had enough:
please take your seat so we can land.”
And there it went, this man’s plan
of dying drunk and free.

(an hour later)

Stood there waiting in the lights,
running from those things they say.
Now destination in my voice,
came up with new and better lines
and hurled insults in the face of France
since that was where my life touched down:
they took my name away from me,
put it in a jar to poke and play
and I just got time and duty-free.

(somewhere else, some other life ago)

I doubled my pay and standards this morning.
Carried you around in a pouch
since neither hand could hold
and neither eye would hide
how far I’d come to just go away.
So I crashed and burned there on your couch
and the one seat I want is taken now – oh well,
misery loves company
but in here it’s just little me.

(finally, here and now)

Do I feel shame? No.
At least I stood up
like chumps in the theater,
at least for a night
I was a daresayer.

Trust me like you never trust your life:
pride costs nothing.