Canada Bound

(Keep in mind, after the untimely death of my laptop a whole bunch of stuff, I'm slowly rebuilding, this was the post I wrote on the plane, I hope.)

Canada Bound- A Poem

Gather round young tater tots,
I shall regale the story of naughty thoughts.
Quite please, and take your seat,
and listen close to this story incomplete.
Our tail begins far out in the west,
where money is plastic and so is each breast.
Exile is up late preparing for flight,
he's up to late, it's a restless night.
Attempting to sleep on a matters full of air,
only a matter of hours before this one is a pair.
Yancey thoughts swirl thought out his head,
land in an airport, crash in a bed.
A restless night of sleeping on the floors,
is dashed to pieces by Jenna in her drawers.
Startled and yancey, 2 hours of sleep,
at four in the morning Exile is a heap.
Sunglasses on he's brushing his teeth,
like a staggering drunk, he's slurring his speeth.
On the road at mach 5 Jenna's got her caffeine,
bordering nausea and death Exile holds back a scene.
Finally at the airport ready to go,
"sir, your terminal is on the other side of the airport, didn't you know?"
on the little blue buss the driver does fly,
Exile grips on the seat "I don't wanna die."
He finally boards and not a moment to late,
2 hours in security have fueled him with hate.
Waft back from the seat in front is a smell so rank,
the man in front of poor Exile has redefined stank.
Tired as hell he now has the munchies,
rewarded with pancakes cooked nice and crunchy.
The 5 hours flight crawled by quite slow,
that's what happens to time when you want some "you know."
Customs took too long, and he wanted out pronto,
FYI, this is the place with the stinkiest bathroom in Toronto.
Out of the gate and what does he see?
An entire terminal, minus one Mitzee.
Frantic calls abound and a chase follows in suit,
she's walking 50 feet ahead, and the wrong way to boot!
Finally it's here and that first kiss so perfect,
at that moment they know it was all worth it.
And so it was off to Jax, away they snuck,
months of yancey anticipation they were ready to... Sight see.


For the editorial sake of this poem,
I left out the details about all the throw'n.



Exile

Original_exile@hotmail.com