By Matthew Paul Olmos
there are plane tickets and there is an ocean Atlantic
telephone wires and wireless lines
and underneath it all some shit'faced romantic
who maybe spends too much time thinking life is filled with signs.
the words in their letters begin to resemble a heart
each of them waiting for the other to scream out loud
that they would bet their hands to end this oceans apart
an so they let themselves up an on some far off cloud
there is a plane ticket and there is no more ocean
arrival dates and departure nightmares
there are two nervous hearts in motion
saying fuck it to the world an this is all that matters
there will be nervous airports and sweating arrival gates,
and maybe plane crashes, like so many before, or maybe safety landings and explosions all postponed to some far off never date.
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