DINNER IN THE LAND OF AIRPLANE
I went to the Land of Airplane to look for work.
They X-rayed my heart and my pockets for pistols.
The jets spewed Arabs in white burnooses.
They served the grownups the muscles of peasants.
I came to the town of Atlanta in the Land of Airplane.
They sold me Hare Krishna and plastic roses
and an offbrand Jesus and a greasy burger
washed down with a two dollar beer.
I knew a man that died in the Land of Airplane,
his heart packed in grease like an army pistol.
They hustled him down the stairs where the demons twittered,
and kids in Guatemala ate Big Macs that day.
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Author:
Robert Southwick Richmond (
Offline) - Published: January 6th, 2021 16:39
- Comment from author about the poem: Written in the Atlanta airport around 1983. I think the Hare Krishna booth was on concourse E. It\\\'s been a long time since you could get a beer for two dollars at Hartsfield airport.
- Category: Sociopolitical
- Views: 18
Offline)
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