Postcard # 44

November 28th, 2015

In an airport, somewhere in Western USA

Two men discuss the climate change and how it's not man-made

And the absurdity makes it sound like something out of The Onion

Maybe I'm just so used to hearing a like-minded opinion

But my stomach ties itself in a knot

South of Greenland, there's a mysterious, cold, blue spot

I wake up mid-flight

In the darkest of the night

I look down at the glaciers

Shining in the moonlight

On my in-flight entertainment

Charlize Theron's kicking ass

I finish my red wine

And drift off fast

Into a derailed, uneasy train of thought

South of Greenland, there's a mysterious, cold, blue spot

I land in Paris

Where the mood is somber

If you don't look European

You're a suicide bomber

It was a long time since the world felt this hopeless

I'm hopeful some day we'll all work out our differences

But right now the world's on fire

It's red hot

Except south of Greenland

There's a mysterious, cold, blue spot