Sayonara, Suckers

Not to jinx it

by being brazen

with Lady Luck

but we haven't had 

a major airline catastrophe

in what feels like longer

than I remember

growing up;

not one of those rich pricks

in a privately owned Cessna

that was probably grandiose suicide

or insurance fraud to save their heirs

sans golden parachute

but a media feeding frenzy

with images of floating fuselage

and mention of children

who could've grown

to cure cancer

had they been given

that imaginary chance--

news anchors spewing sea coordinates

and Boeing models with lots of 7s

that degenerate gamblers

like the ones I've grown to love

would later play 

in the lottery.

I'm not saying

we're overdue

but they must've fixed 

the plane problems

because we haven't fixed 

the people.

Being a Pisces

ain't all

it's cracked up to be:

a glider

adrift

with no landing strip

in sight.

Currently reading:

"Insomnia" by Stephen King.