The east wing of my heart rises like a hot
air balloon. The west wing descends like bad
news on the oblivious. The radical wing
of my heart sets fire to the stock exchange.
The silent wing gestures like a museum.
The wings of hope trade away several promising prospects.
Winging it at the press conference,
despair tells fans the team wouldn’t
have made the playoffs anyway. As a right-winger
I’ve scored several goals and lowered
your taxes. As a left-winger, I’m here for you.
Attention all passengers, this is the captain speaking:
that thing on the wing is the old god, the small god,
all the thieves and lawyers, every good deal you’ve made.
Ladies and gentlemen, this is what keeps us aloft.