The Hungry Helicopters

Yesterday afternoon at lunchtime I drove to this little spot over by the Salem Country Club and readied to read a book for a small while, The Hungry Tide by Amitav Ghosh, which so far is so good. I love books where the landscape is more than just a setting but practically a character. This one takes place in the Sundarbans in Bengal. Amazing place of tidal landscapes. Not to mention the tigers. But to get back to the moment, all during lunch there were helicopters flying loudly overhead with that annoying whooshing sound they make. Why were they overhead? I’m not sure. I had read for only fifteen minutes and decided I’d take a walk down the road a bit and try to catch a glimpse of them through the trees. All I could see was a black one doing a nifty side-step maneuver Oh-oh! I’ve heard of those black ones. I’m outahere.

Sonnet August Three

Black helicopters kept strict surveillance
over the Salem Country Club. Each golfer
approached the green with suspicion in his swing.
One agent in particular was dressed
in plaid and sweated bullets with the best
of them. Of this he was all but certain: fore!
A little white ball, or maybe it was a flying
saucer, soared over the fairway and landed
in the middle of a conspiracy
involving a landscape artist, an engineer
from General Electric, and a criminal
lawyer. They walked into the nineteenth hole
and this goddess dropped a dime. Of all the gin
joints in the world they had to live in hers.

~Son Rivers 2005