by Rob Robinette
Based on High
Flight by John Gillespie Magee, Jr.
Oh, I have slipped the surly
bonds of my spouse
And danced the clubs on Kiwi-polished
Moonward I've climbed, and joined the tum-
Of moon-split cloudsand
done a hundred
You have not dreamed ofin the Philippines
High in the domelit silence. Holding there,
I've scared the airsick pax, and flung their
baggage through footless
halls of air.
Up, up the long, delirious, burning black
I've topped the turbulent heights with
Where never C-130, or even C-5 flew.
And, while with fuzzy, sleep deprived mind
The high untrespassed sanctity of due regard
Put out my hand, and touched the face of
The Aircraft Commander,
who thinks he is God.
AMC FORM 1641A, SEP 92
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