THE PLAN

A poem by Angelina Wong

Here's the plan, boys:

At midnight a quarter-to,

We jump ship

and splash—

Right back into our mother's wombs.

For sitting here in this bar

and raising our glasses to pipe dreams

will only get us so far.

Perhaps we’ll stumble upon a blood cell,

red and round and thick,

Or perhaps we’ll chance an encounter

With semen, sperm or egg.

What do you say, Kenny?

What do you think we’ll find?

The making of pure love?

Oh yes, that’s right!

Did you say something, brother Ben?
Go ‘head, speak your mind

You think we’ll find John Glenn?

Hell, that sounds just fine

And yet some of you might still say

That you will wait until the day

When Yves’s last name is ‘nounced “Laurent”

When all your’n wives’ heads are red

When deaf-mutes can carry a tune

When man sets foot on the moon

Maybe you will join us then

But ‘til that day—

Adieu.

So raise your glasses!

Sláinte! Sláinte!

Raise your glasses!

Sláinte! Sláinte!

Oh, raise your glasses I say!

Sláinte! Sláinte!

Raise your glasses ‘til the break of day!

For sitting here in this bar

and raising our glasses to pipe dreams

will get us oh,

so

far.

My boys—

Here’s the plan:

At sunrise

We jump ship

And splash—

Right into red-man Japan

And Ben, once the college man—

Ben will become a navy man!

Perhaps we’ll stumble ‘pon a trench,

wet and wild and big,

Or p’haps we’ll chance a ‘counter

With mermaid, ghost or pig

What do you say, Eddie?

Whatd’ya think we’ll find?

A faceless spider sprite?

Oh yessir, that’s right!

Did you say something, cousin Clive?
Go’ head, speak your mind

You think we’ll find a dragon’s den?

Amen! A’ight!

And yet some of you might still say

That you will wait until the day

When Coco’s byname is ‘nounced “channel”

When all your’n wives’ eyes are emerald

When Baboon closes his ‘brella

When Ben finds his Cinderella

Maybe you will join us then

But ‘til that day—

Ciao bella!

So raise your glasses!

Sláinte! Sláinte!

Raise your glasses!

Sláinte! Sláinte!

Oh, raise your glasses I say!

Sláinte! Sláinte!

Raise your glasses ‘til the break of day!

For sitting here in this bar

and raising our glasses to pipe dreams

will get us Oh!

So

far!

Boys—

The plan:

At hour lev’n

We jump ship

splash—

into heav’n

and I'll be reunited—

with my late wife Pollyanna

Perhaps we’ll dance

a dance in the yuletide,

Or have the honor of a waltz

with An’s pet black butterfly

What do you say, Providence?

Will she once more be mine?

For she left with a flutter—

died with the light.

So raise your glasses, gents

Raise your glasses, please

Oh, raise your glasses I say

Raise your glasses ‘til the break of day

For sitting here in this bar

and raising our glasses to pipe dreams

will get us so,

so

far.