A month in
And the New Year no longer feels new
Tempus fugit
Of course
But it seems to have flown through rain and snow and storm
For the wings once gleaming are tarnished
The windows scarred by hail
And the buffeting winds have rocked it badly
I shift in the seat provided
The back less broad than my shoulders
My gut spilling over the sides
And next to me a nasal voice
Can you keep your arm in your space
It's really annoying me
And my reply
Your face annoys me
I guess we're even
And while the nasal voice has no more to say
The seat remains uncomfortable
As I am bucked about
While the rain and hail fall outside
Passing by to some end far below
Wetting ground that I will never see
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