Jet Powered Penguins Poem by Rachael Swiss

Jet Powered Penguins



You know the coffee is bad
When three sugars disappear
Into sheer burnt bitterness.

There is a thin film
Nearly invisible to the naked eye
Of water,
Calmly resting on the top of
The steaming and foul liquid,
Less dense than whatever
Clever molecules have been inexpertly chosen
To imitate actual coffee.

But at an altitude of 30,000 miles
Above the white and craggy Alps
(Swiss? French? Italian?)
I also have my beer –
Lush that I am –
And thoughts of the eight or so
Million things that I would draw
If I could, perhaps
Gild you
Paint you
Hang your portrait on my wall
A satirical Adonis
Sarcastic and wise
But beautiful to me,
My Funny Valentine.

Dollface.
It has a ring to it
Like gold around a finger
Or the mark of plague
Either/or will do
As long as the next time that I am served
This ridiculous impersonation of coffee
At 30,000 feet in the air
It is with you
And perhaps we can fly over Paris
And poke fun at the French.

Just like we do at home.

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