MYSTERIES AND MEMORIES
THE HALF MILE HIGH CLUB
IN DEEP FUNK BLEU...
I was supposed to meet her at the airport at the crack of sunrise,
and there she was..
on time,
on target,
on edge...
She was out of the dream again,
and back into my eyes,
all fluffy hair and buttons,
and
bitching at the hour,
and the tiny plane
and the walk
and the economy...
laughing into my smile,
and sucking in hurried smoke
in the cold fresh Texas air,
before we half ran to the plane..
we fell into the seats I had carefully chosen..
the last two,
in the back,
with the galley wall behind our seats...
The plan was to wait until the food cart started it's long walk
back from the front of the plane,
and
to take her,
right there in the seats,
where only the most foolhardy curious
could ever truly know what we were doing..
In the three row,
one unexpected level behind us,
and back over my left shoulder..
sat a slob of a man,
a real beerbelch and beans kinda guy
slumped in his seat..
Now I had to hope that this aging frat lampshade-head type
would drift back into the throttling grip of Morpheus
and leave me to work my wiles
on this shy and easily embarrassed
wanton woman.
We sat on the runway
for what seemed like an eternity...
and we talked little,
and thought a lot..
so many threads were woven into the tapestry of this trip.
a little work,
a little sightsee,
a little family visit,
a digging up of graves,
a memory circumcision,
a walk on sandy diamonds,
a way to put distance - for both of us -
from other decisions,
and
pressing matters.
and on top of it all
we wanted to have five days
of the most earth shattering sex
and
long lost lust
since the Verushka Playboy spread
in the late sixties...
we wanted to be thrown from cities
as a noise hazard,
driven out of towns on a rail,
with our own tools of torment.
we wanted to clear the air
and erase some pages
in both of our books.
we were going back to the place of her nightmares
to the back of the closet, where the light seldom reached..
there were pieces of puzzles,
scattered throughout the entire falling leaf area...
and if we were willing to risk the savagery of exhumation,
we could try to move the puzzle along...
and get rid of the unnecessary pictures on the box,
which had no current bearing
on the puzzles at hand....
they were just old pictures of puzzles which were solved years ago,
just never put back in the box but rather laid around getting in the way.
These and other horrific thoughts were the plague of our morning silence...
Our air waitresses were snotty,
super seniority kinda gals
with an aloof air and sprayed hair..
they wouldn't have survived a hangnail,
never mind a fireball deep sea dive...
which is, after all, what everyone expects
at some point of any flight..
After the melancholy lifted
I kissed her,
and ran my fingers over the surface of her denim vest.
Two airline blankets served as cover for me,
as I unfastened one button
on her matching, ankle length skirt
and slid my hand onto the warm spread of smooth panties,
and the damp foliage beneath them.
Frat boy was engrossed in the air molecules of his own breath
and
I told her to go to the bathroom
and remove the panties..
when she resisted,
I offered her the alternative..
she moved past me towards the upright airline rest room....
and I thought some more about why I needed the answers,
and when I first learned the questions,
and why the condiments
meant so much
to this particular meal.
