and I lean my seat and my head back into the conversation behind me,
“Well, you haven’t lived until you’ve heard a corpse fart!
You see, I worked in a morgue all my life.”
The jet banks and the sun shoots white yellow
across the aisle, highlights a very sunny
animated amputee telling a childhood story,
"She - mom - would wake me up every morning with this song:
WAKE UP LITTLE MAN, JAR THE GROUND, SHAKE THAT WOODEN LEG, ROUND AND ROUND! She was cheering me up! I don't know where my leg went or what she did with it, but what a great mom to have! I mean, it could've been worse!" There's a line to the bathroom, the stewardess at the caboose of it with the drink cart, and I hear a nun talking to a maybe basketball player, his head hairing the ceiling of the fuselage,
"Do you think Jesus would shop at Whole Foods?
I think he was more a Trader Joe's man. Also,
if someone had said to Jesus, There are no free lunches, He would've come back with: Why not?
Happy Easter, sir. Man … if I may say,
I betyou have a great 3-point shot!" (To be continued; check flight information at your gate.)