On a turquoise cloud

How nice to be floating
up there, somewhere --
unsullied by the stain of petty desires,
or the mud and grime of earthly constructs --
Bobbing along to the soundtrack of lyres,
Dido-esque muzak, or perhaps something inbetween.
Unburdened by existentialist ideas,
or the philosophies of Socrates, Plato, Confucius,
Ghandhi, Teresa, Lennon, Plath, Keats --
Just a bunch of dead people,
and those not dead are tiny moving black specks below.

How nice to be breathing
thin, but clean, air --
no noxious fumes to char the lungs
and choke your bronchioles --
Bobbing along to the melody, sweetly sung,
of tranquil skies, and lazy ships upon sun-drenched seas --
Up there, somewhere...
on a turquoise cloud.

---- circa 5th August 2005