The station splayed a crazy random “plan”
With Omicron disheveling every port.
Has “Tree of Life” lost patience with mere man?
They say that “Politics is only sport.”
It’s JFK reborn to Dallas place!
It’s “Carpe Pussy!” who’s become our God.
You can’t come in. I can’t disease displace.
The touch once smooth and warm is cold as cod.
Cold as Cod.
Though every flight is cancelled, we are here.
But JFK is nowhere to be seen.
We tore the Truth itself; it seemed so dear.
Uprooted once again to land unseen.
And now we live in constant flux and change.
As airports melt. Mosaics of crazy strange.
Essays on America: My Cousin Bobby
Essays on America: The Stopping Rule
Essays on America: The Update Problem
The Loud Defense of Untenable Positions
Beware of Sheep in Wolves’ Clothing
How the Nightingale Learned to Sing
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