After Jim Harrison
Take off
into the sky's blue cup
into the drunken yonder where God lived
please return
those seatbacks and tray-tables
you will float on them in the coming emergency
who are you
shrieks the child in your arms
as the window screams back from the American pale
we bag our own peanuts
we are the fat sky-kings on rayon thrones
we put them in the sky using our most modern noise
we see everything
we see the earth rolling into stars
from our great, turbulent jail in the newly vacant heaven
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