nine stories tall, longer
than the empire
state building
in new york.
we go up the gangplank
with our
luggage
for the seven-day cruise.
where's the food i hear
the man
behind me yell out.
i look back
at him and his wife, she
has her mouth
open, like a baby bird
in a nest waiting
for a worm.
a gaggle of waiters begin
to throw
lobsters at us
and pads of butter.
pork chops
and ham sandwiches.
from the poop deck,
a man in a chefs hat is tossing
pizzas at us
like Frisbees.
a small catapult shoots
scoops of ice
cream at us while
someone puts a cake
into our faces.
welcome aboard,
the captain says and puts
a giant bibb
around our necks.
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