A Good Night's Sleep

We were all of us boarding a plane
headed east to Casablanca.
The airport was a casino
with endless staircases
and cocktail waitresses
in those skimpy outfits.
I kept looking for Floor G
going up and down
in my bare feet
trying to find my friends.
Floor G was the ground floor.
Everybody was waiting,
even you.
When I got to the gate;
no ticket
no passport
no problem.
The pilot was a famous comedian
he led us to a hotel room
in the bottom of the 747.
There were already people there -
blue movie stars, lights and cameras.
They were in production.
The plane took off on the freeway
and flew low and slow.
The countryside was filled
with pretty Dutch girls and Guernsy cows.
Nobody noticed that but me.
Everybody was preoccupied with
the pornographers.
A girl from where I work
started to sob.
She missed her husband.
We tried to comfort her
between shouts
and magnums of Veuve Clicquot.
The plane suddenly landed in Greenland.
They gave us a rubber map of the town
and pointed at the sky
My father was now the pilot.
He told me we could go no further.
The Armies of Greenland were holding
an atom bomb test.
Instead of watching the mushroom cloud,
the Armies of Greenland mobbed us
asking for autographs.
They thought
we were professional basketball players
and we were.
After the atom bomb test
we re-boarded the plane.
As we were taking off
I saw a friend of mine named Vanderpool
recycling cardboard at the base of the control tower.
When I told him we were leaving for Morocco,
he said that the people were brown
they spoke no English
and beer was haram.
They made him General In Chief
of the Armies of Greenland