BY PETER CROWLEY
A mudsill pilot, whose parents had found exorbitant wealth,
cast his lot forward through nosediving at high speeds
and crashing straight into the sodden clay earth
Everyone assumed the pilot dead but, like a Phoenix rising from
ashes, he would be reborn as his former self and
ascend as a pilot into the azure again
“Truly mercurial,” many would remark on his nosedives.
“No one has dared such outrageous feats before!”
In these nosedives, racing through altitude changes at
remarkable rates, it was as if within a couple instants,
the pilot had descended forbidden barbed ladders from golf
resorts and world class hotels unto the bayou hovels and
shoddy forest huts of the lubberhead. With such dexterity, the
pilot could hoodwink the sharecropper into believing that he was one of them,
rather than living with luxurious ease atop the sky’s summit.