I dream I am a blimp pilot
by Michael McNeilley
I pilot my blimp
my big black
blimp down
the river corridor
down the shipping lanes
where weather is
predictable
and navigation
is a breeze
it is night and I pass
blimp hotels and bars
clifftop moorings and
treetop apartments
with dim red
porchlights
and I pull into
the Judy Bar
which offers free parking
for blimp jockeys
and my heels spark
on the metal gratings
as I pass through those
swinging doors
everyone working in Judy's
looks about the same
female and male
waitrons alike
it's a clone bar
and one with copper
hair and that
intractable headache manner
takes my order
white spider
with a twist
and as she
turns to go
I think of you
walking away from me
and then it all
starts to make
sense
