Tuesday Morning

I had fierce opinions about the trajectory of this,
we were living in a boring era of sorts,
until the second Tuesday

And even then, I couldn't call it a turn of events,
or a turn of the century,
because we were still referring to antiquities
and antiquated things as if they were Victorian

I forgot everything they taught me about flying under the radar
because I never had to fly,
and certainly not under the radar

And looking forward and backward
and over my shoulder
and under my seat,
and up for a mask that would make no difference at all,
I found it all futile

I started thinking about 1999

and about benign plane crashes
and even though none of them were benign,
perhaps they flew with malice toward none

To imagine what He would have thought of all of this,
with his premonitions,
and his irreparable sadness,
he would have been so disappointed in this downfall


in this turn for the worst,
with this turn of events