Page 16 of Crank (Crank 1)
good-bye, sad her perfume.
Things would never be the same.
I think it was the last time she kissed me.
But I was on my way to Daddy.
Aboard United 1425
The flight attendant escorted me to
a seat beside a moth-munched toupee.
Yellowed dentures clacked cheerfully,
suggested I make myself comfy.
Three hours is a mighty long time.
Three hours is a long time, astraddle
a 747’s wing, banshee engines
screaming, earachy babies fussing,
elderly seatmate complaining.
Can’t stand flying.
Makes me nauseous.
I get nauseous when vid screens
play movies I’ve seen three times,
seat belt signs deny pee breaks
and first class smells like real food.
Pretzels?
For this ticket price?
For the price, I’d expect Albert to
tone down the gripe machine. I closed
my eyes, tried to shut him out, but second
run movies can’t equal conversation.
My wife died last year.
Been alone since.
I’ve been alone since my mom met Scott.
He sucked the nectar from her heart
