Refrain (II)

We fledgling fliers learned -- we learned our lessons well.

Sure, planes got bent and bodies broken; I can tell

you, pilots won't allow anxiety to take

them down. If some poor shipmate crashed and burned, we shook

it off: we Flawless would make jokes of it, deny

that it might bother us, that we could also die

so easily. We'd blame him for his own demise;

blame someone else, blame Fate, get drunk, and minimize

his death, dehumanize a friend and call him names.

Tomorrow we would fly and play our macho games

as every other day. So what if you screwed up

and "augered in"? Well, I'd lift high the cruel cup

for you, disdain our reckless bond of men in flight.

What then if I should fall in bloody combat? Might

a few remain to raise a toast to us in Hell?