Look around,
Ye fellow frogs!
Our vat is boiling
And many of us are
Already beyond redemption.

Searching desperately
For my flotation device –
Didn’t I hear the stewardess
Reciting the bits about
Water landings, and the
Low oxygen content
In the higher altitudes?

Didn’t I hear the pilot
Correctly
When he said we’d be
"...safely flying at 30,000 feet"?

The water’s choppy surface
Is clearly in view,
And three of our
Four engines
Seem to be disabled.

I wish to become
An anonymous member
Of any rescue efforts
That make sense.

I reach below the seat.

I find

Nothing

To save me

Or us.

It would seem it’s down to
Individual wit,
And the buoyancy
Of national obesity.

04/01/2012

Author's Note: I've long known that if/when I found a reasonable revolution, I would join it. I'm still looking - while the slow boil of our nation's predicament seems to be swiftly approaching the point of no return. This was partly inspired by Frankie Sanchez's As the mass of an object falls, so does its momentum

Posted on 04/01/2012
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