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I Don't Feel Like Kirk Today
  by John M. Powell            
This was written at 34,000 feet, on a tired rainy Thursday night, flying home from Washington, D.C.

I don’t feel like Kirk today.

I don’t feel like Kirk today.
I’m the ship builder, not the one flying across the Milky Way.

Today in a strange land the monster were fought,
but not a horn nor antenna nor scale in the lot.
No blobs from Rigal or lizards in the sun, these beasts were beltway bandits of Washington.
I don’t feel like Kirk today.

Just three days ago my ship took to the sky.
Her lines gleamed with promise, she really did fly.
I really did feel like Kirk that day.

But now my ships in the shop and I’m on a plane.
I look out the window and it’s starting to rain.
I don’t feel like Kirk today.

Into the storm I look out on the wing, my tired mind images a curious thing.
Lightening strikes and primate shapes the light brings,
Could it?  Is it? something on the wing?

Through rain and exhaustion, the fog does bring,
The sight of monkeys there on the wing.

Am I mad, or just sleepy I can’t really say, but maybe now, just a little,
I feel like Kirk today.

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This page was last edited on December 15, 2005
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