The Wing Walker

Champ

Lieutenant Ormer Locklear scrambles
out of his cockpit, his partner grabs
the stick as Lock swings up onto the wing.

Holy moley, he’s out there dancing
like a bear in slick-soled boots—
he’s hanging by his knees
from the undercarriage, he’s astride
the tail, waving to the crowd,

he’s changing from plane to plane
in mid-air. Hell-in-harness, what an act!

Bill this as a circus, a flying circus
three miles long and a mile high,
Lock with his pals, Skeets and Shorty.

I tell them, turn up in uniform. Women
will go crazy for daredevils
with wings and ribbons on their suits.