Sometimes I'm in a supermarket
where I wander the aisles
concerned
someone will notice
there's too much meat
in my shopping cart
or sometimes I'm standing
at the checkout counter
looking down and
berating myself
for having forgotten to wear pants.

Or I'm in jet airplane that
suddenly plunges from the sky
spinning wildly above broken ice
over an open ocean
thrusting past the shore
toward a snow covered town
just barely clearing the treetops and
violently rolling to avoid power lines
then gently coming to rest
in a Wal-Mart parking lot
where they decline my credit card
in front of an auditorium
filled with disapproving penguins.

As I look into the audience
I'm not comforted by the site of
Winston Churchill
wearing a yellow sun dress
and black patent leather shoes.