what good does it do
to die
on a plane, everlasting
non-smoking. duty is free
alcohol is free, like life
you paid for in advance
unknowingly.
what good does it do
to have plastic little knifes
and forks, creamy white bags
to get sick in,
you cannot fondle
neither these, nor
anybody. so welcome
oxygen masks, peanuts,
Red lights on get you hyper
on the bladders. lavotories
are heaven, with power-flush
and toothbrushes.
but what good does it do
to power-flush your piss
and wipe down
that basin? i mean.
wanting, lacking, you
lust for the guy
2 seats away, his cup-
noodles glow alone
in glory. you walk
the aisle, praying again
for the whole world to
be in flame, in smoke,
and you could break the window
and listen to the birds