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This writing was accepted for publication in the 84 page perfect-bound issue... Down in the Dirt magazine (v101) (the December 2011 Issue) You can also order this 5.5" x 8.5" issue as an ISSN# paperback book:						This writing also appears in this 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback “Perfectly Imperfect” Order this 6" x 9" ISBN# book:

Order this writing in the book Bleeding Heart Cadaver (a Down in the Dirt collection book)		get the 320 page September-December 2011 Down in the Dirt magazine issue collection 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:

MD-80

Christopher Hanson

Every time I see “the plane,” “that plane,”
Or MD-80,
I sweat the deadened drop of a labor
I’d wish not remember.
We called it, “The Oven,”
Name and noun for our innards shared,
The belly of the “Beast” –
A high Texas noon
In absence of water,
While tossing luggage:
Panties, prongs and cadavers,
Hours on end
Under Spanish howl
And deafening jet engines.

Literally boiled, I left.
I left the tarmac, the turmoil and chaos
Amidst vomit, human and mechanical alike,
So that I could chase nausea beyond the
Secure fences.
I picked up,
Walked to the cantina ‘cross the way,
Just shy of the border.
I stumbled unto cervesa plus a tequila or two.
Uno mas later unto seven or so
And semi-courage.
Lacking fear, I grabbed a U-haul, I grabbed my wife
And made our way towards the snow.

3,000 miles considered, I’m here now,
North and of no end to mechanism,
My newer commodity, food,
My newer machine, now a car,
Though admittedly,
When I look to the sky
And spot that MD-80,
I remember my toil
And sympathize for my sister,
A blonde and youngest of the brood,
Who continues to stomach that very
Hell
I’d freed myself from.

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