Don’t Applaud, The Captain Can’t Hear You

After Juliana Spahr

Don’t applaud the captain can’t hear you,
the engines have overplayed their hand
and your excitement is just a toothmark
on the bedpost of this new silver age.

Air traffic control can’t hear you,
The cherry picker and stair operators can’t hear you,
The plane engineers and technicians can’t hear you,
The cleaners picking up cans and napkins after you’ve
left out can’t hear you,

Neither hearing or knowing you are the petroleum
industry reps, the CEOs and execs,
The construction workers from a site decades past
and the shareholders and investors can’t hear you

The travel agents, the holiday reps can’t hear you
the taxi and bus drivers and train drivers can’t hear you
The security guards, the passport control staff can’t hear you.

And the baggage handlers, the baggage handlers, the suitcase designers,
the suitcase manufacturers, the plastics, metals and chemical companies,

We went into this world, and there it is, the sky, the teams, the world.
And no one hears the clapping hammered out in the troposcene of tourist trappings,
they won’t hear you, get out.

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